Unafraid
by Roadrunnerz
Summary: Beckett's investigation into LokSat takes a sudden dark turn. A post 8x02 AU fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Usual fan fic disclaimers apply. These characters do not belong to me.

Story begins two months after 8x02 and pictures a different turn of events following that episode. I couldn't find a reason or purpose for Hayley, so she doesn't appear in this story.

Giant thanks to my partners in crime, Annie & Kel, for always letting me bug you and keeping my grammar in check. Special shout out to Sandy too, for letting me pick your police brain with legal procedure questions.

* * *

 **Unafraid**

 _"...there wasn't much difference between loving someone and being afraid of them. Loving someone meant needing them to stay: alive, around. But the shadow that love can't help but cast is fear: fear they won't stay alive or around- fear they'll be reckless , or doomed or just walk away and not consider you ever again. With love, you're scared it will disappear. With fear, you're scared it never will. The trick... was getting used to both of them at the same time. It was living in between."_

 _-Michael Christie. "If I Fall, if I Die."_

 **Chapter I**

"It's your turn, Richard," his mother told him after downing a generous swig of white wine from a large, bulbous glass.

Castle glanced at the game board and the tiny medieval figurines that covered almost the entire coffee table they were seated around. Him and two of his three favourite women in the world.

His mother was seated across from him, wearing a multi-coloured wrap dress and a turquoise necklace with a pendant the size of his fist. Rick marvelled that her slender neck held it up with such ease. She sat on the rim of the sofa, hawk-like, watching him trying to figure out the game that she'd already stopped trying to understand. As if she might be able to absorb its rules through him via osmosis.

Alexis was sitting cross-legged on the floor to his right, wearing pyjama pants and munching on a bowl of popcorn. She was the only one who seemed vaguely invested in the outcome of the game. She was also the one who brought it home this morning. The one who decided that she'd rather spend Friday night at home with her father and grandmother than a catch a movie with her friends (Castle overheard her cancelling her plans last night).

"Richard?" his mother repeated, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He picked up his glass of scotch and swallowed the contents, letting the liquid burn its way down his throat until it gave him the courage he needed to stop this charade.

He knew exactly what his mother and daughter were doing, had been doing for the last eight weeks, and he loved them for it. More than he could express in words.

But it had to stop.

And he had to be the one to put a stop to it.

"Alexis," he turned to his daughter and her gorgeous blue eyes narrowed as they noticed the change of tone in his voice. "Mother."

"Dad?"

"It's Friday night."

"So?" Alexis questioned, puzzled.

"You shouldn't be here," he told them, pressing his palms against the table top and pushing himself off the floor. He'd been sitting on the floor too long and his legs were starting to fall asleep.

"Where exactly should we be?" His mother wanted to know.

"Anywhere but here, mothering me and trying to make me feel better."

"What are you talking about?" Alexis feigned indignation. "I've been wanting to play this game since it came out!"

Castle stopped just short of rolling his eyes at his daughter before turning towards his mother. Martha barely hid a grimace when she observed her granddaughter's lousy acting skills. "How is it possible that a child with our genes is such a god-awful liar?" he asked his mother.

"Hey!" More mock indignation from Alexis.

"Mother, Alexis-" Castle said softly. "You both need to stop this. Trying to be responsible for my happiness is only making me feel...guilty on top of everything else."

"Oh Richard-"

"Don't." He raised his hand, tired of it all. Tired of the way he felt. Of their kindness, their sympathy, their efforts. He was so damn tired of trying to play along in order not to hurt them too.

He was a big boy. It wasn't the first time a woman, or even the first time a wife had walked out on him. He could handle this.

"Change out of your pyjamas and go meet up with your friends for that movie and dinner," he ordered his daughter.

"No, Dad...that's not..."

He wouldn't let her finish. "I insist."

Alexis gave him an irritated look, but she got up off the floor and dusted a kernel of popcorn off her pyjama pants. Castle swore he caught a glimpse of joy on her face. Alexis wanted out of the loft as much as his mother did.

He didn't have to order Martha out; she was already waving her arms in the air with both relief and annoyance. "Oh alright, Richard. If you must drown your sorrows in video games and Scottish liquor all by yourself so be it, but you know you're welcome to come out with me. Marty's hosting a wine tasting in the party room of his apartment building. The more the merrier."

"Who says I'm going to drown my sorrows?" Castle leaned over to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. "I do have a book to write."

Alexis started putting the board game away, swiping the figurines off the coffee table in a few swift hand motions while his mother made a quick dash into the bathroom to freshen up.

That was when Castle heard his cell phone ring.

It was lying on the kitchen counter, halfway across the room.

Alexis grinned. "Maybe Beckett's lonely too and wants to hang out with you."

Castle walked toward the counter and picked up his phone. He didn't recognize the number on the screen.

He swiped it and answered the call, his heart beating faster at the sight of the unknown number.

Ever since Kate walked out the door of their loft and their marriage two months ago he had this heavy feeling in his gut that one day he'd get a phone call not from her but _about_ her. His overactive imagination conjured up all sorts of possibilities and every one of those imaginary calls filled him with dread. Including this one now. Which was real and not a figment of his imagination.

 _"Is this Richard Castle?"_

"Yes-" His throat constricted. "It is. Who is this?"

 _"Are you the husband of Captain Katherine Beckett?"_

Castle noticed Alexis staring at him from the corner of his eye. "Who is this?"

 _"I'm calling from Harlem Hospital Center. Your wife was brought to our ER by ambulance."_

 _ER?_

 _Harlem?_

His heart was thrashing wildly inside his rib cage now, his knees weak. He was certain that the ground beneath him had softened and tilted.

Speaking was difficult too because his throat threatened to close in on itself.

"What...what happened? What's wrong with my wife?"

"Drug overdose."


	2. Chapter 2

**Unafraid  
**

 **Chapter II**

 _Harlem, NYC_

They made it to Harlem in record time.

All three of them high-tailed it downstairs and Castle literally jumped in front of the first cab he saw.

Once they arrived at the hospital, Martha paid the driver and Alexis hopped out of the taxi first, grabbing the door and helping her Dad out because his legs still wouldn't quite cooperate. They were shaky and unsteady, like his hands.

Castle glanced at his daughter as she held the car door open for him. She hadn't changed out of her pyjamas. Had only grabbed a hoodie to throw over her t-shirt and a pair of flip flops for her feet.

Sheer willpower got his legs moving and he ran through the sliding doors that led to the Emergency Room.

There was a reception desk behind the door; so he stopped there. "I'm Richard Castle...I got a call that my wife is here."

The pink scrub-wearing woman behind the desk looked at him and then at a clipboard in front of her. "Castle? I don't have a Castle on my..."

"Beckett," he cut her off. "Kate _Beckett_."

"Ah, yes."

"Where is she?"

The woman pointed towards the hallway on his right. "Second door on the right. There should be a doctor with her. Doctor..." She scanned her list again. "Doctor Hussain."

"Thank you." He was already making his way down the hall, oblivious to whether or not his mother and daughter were following him, when he suddenly noticed Javier Esposito standing in the hallway.

"Espo?" He walked up to the detective. "What happened?"

Esposito frowned. "Trying to figure that out, bro. Anything you know that we should know?"

"No...I, uh...I just got the call from the hospital telling me she was brought here. Did _you_ bring her here?"

"No," Esposito shook his head and gestured in the direction of a black man seated in a waiting room chair. "He did. Said he was in the alley when they dumped her."

" _Dumped_?" Castle turned to the stranger. The man had a scruffy beard, stained, torn clothing, shoes with soles that were falling off. Homeless. He looked unmistakably homeless.

Beckett was dumped in an alley and brought here by a homeless man?

"What the hell? " None of this made sense. "How did you find out?"

"They called the precinct after she was brought in. She had her badge in her suit jacket. That's how they ID'd her." Espo explained. "Came here as soon as I could and was gonna call you next. Sorry that the hospital beat me to it."

Castle noticed only now that his mother and Alexis were standing next to him, listening to everything he was saying. "How is she?"

"I'm not family. They're not telling me much." Esposito told him. "Go see her and let us know. In the meantime, I'm gonna have a chat with our friend here. See if he can tell us anything useful."

Castle barely felt his mother's hand on his shoulder. "Richard?"

"I need to see her."

Castle hurried over to the room where Beckett was and stepped inside.

There were four beds in the room and Beckett was lying on one of them. An oxygen mask on her face and an IV running into her arm. She blinked several times, disoriented and confused, before her eyes focused on him.

She looked terrible. As sickly pale as she was the day the he first saw her after getting shot in the chest. Part of her hair was matted against her face and there was a nasty cut on her temple, covered with a couple of butterfly band-aids. It looked like they patched it up hastily. Clearly not a top priority.

A thin sheen of perspiration lined her forehead.

"Kate?" The white background noise of the hospital; humming machines, footsteps in the hallway and distant voices, drowned out the sound of her name on his lips. Castle wasn't sure he'd said it out loud at all.

It had been three weeks since he'd last seen her and he winced at the recollection.

He'd been tenacious as hell in that first week after she left him. Had sent her endless texts and left her dozens of messages. He'd alternately begged, pleaded and demanded an explanation for her inexplicable decision to leave him. His messages were a mixture of anger and love, forgiveness and bitterness, depending on his mood when he sent them.

Aside from the occasional response asking for his patience and reminding him that she loved him, most of them had gone unanswered. One night he'd even tried (unsuccessfully) to follow Beckett after work to find out where she was staying. But, clever cop that she was, she'd lost him after only two blocks.

And then there was the blow-out at the precinct three weeks ago. Their last meeting had been an angry confrontation at the Twelfth Precinct, where Beckett told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't ready to come home. It was a full-blown fight in front of half a dozen officers, where Castle decided that she'd left him no other choice but to get into her personal space. He dared her to try and evade him when he was only inches from her face.

But instead of an explanation, he ended up getting dragged out of the building by a baby-faced officer in a uniform.

Such was the state of his marriage these days.

And now he was in an ER in Harlem, with a wife still loved fiercely, even if he no longer understood her.

Kate raised one of her hands to push the oxygen mask away but the doctor standing next to her bed stopped her. "Don't do that."

Castle grabbed her other hand and cupped it in between both of his own. Cold. Her skin was so cold against his. He tried to transfer some of his body heat onto her by rubbing his two hands together with hers sandwiched in the middle. "Don't," he repeated. "Don't talk. It's okay. Do what he says, sweetheart."

Kate blinked again and this time Castle saw the fear in her eyes. She squirmed in the bed as though she couldn't get comfortable.

"Doctor, can you tell me what's going on?" God, he had a million questions. Didn't know where to start.

The doctor took a few steps away from her bed and motioned for Castle to follow. So he reluctantly let go of her hand.

"You are?" the doctor questioned.

"Richard Castle. Her husband."

"Mr. Castle, does your wife have a history of drug use? Heroin in particular?"

" _Heroin_?"

"Your wife is here because she injected herself with a massive dose of heroin."

"What? No. That's not possible. She's never used drugs."

It was rare that Beckett even took an aspirin when she had a headache. Never mind shoot up with heroin. It was so inconceivably absurd that Castle wanted to laugh. He half expected a bunch of friends to jump into the room and tell him he'd been pranked.

"She was unconscious when she was brought in," the doctor went on. "We took a blood test and the amount of heroin in her system, in addition to other sedatives-" The doctor paused, weighing his words. "It's enough to send most people into cardiac arrest."

Castle swallowed. Heroin and _other drugs_? "But...she's not unconscious. She's aware and- "

"We gave her naloxone intravenously as soon as she was brought in. The drug takes only a couple of minutes to start working."

"Naloxone?"

"What happens in an opioid overdose Mr. Castle is that it depresses the central nervous and respiratory system. Heroin that's injected turns into morphine in the body. It shuts everything down until respiration ceases."

Castle stared at him.

"Most patients her size and weight, with this amount of heroin in their system-would be going into cardiac arrest. It- it suggests a level tolerance only seen in addicts. It's why I ask about her history of drug use."

Castle wanted to shake this doctor. Hadn't he heard what he just said? Beckett didn't do drugs. Not heroin, not _anything_.

He turned back to Beckett who'd since closed her eyes. Why was he saying all this? She was conscious and breathing. He didn't need to know these morbid facts.

"Naloxone, or Narcan, is an opioid antagonist, Mr. Castle. It literally blocks the effects of the heroin," the doctor explained. "It aids the respiratory system. Jolts the person back into consciousness."

"That's good, right?"

"It's necessary. But there are drawbacks, including immediate and extreme withdrawal symptoms."

"Withdrawal? I told you my wife is not a drug addict!"

"In spite of her...unusual tolerance, I'm inclined to believe you," the doctor's voice softened. "Nothing about her physical state suggests it. We found only one injection site on her arm. A regular user would have dozens."

Castle pressed a palm against his forehead. "She, uh...she was shot in the chest a few years ago. They had her on a lot of painkillers after the surgery. Maybe that helped build a tolerance?"

The doctor nodded. "Unlikely after such a long time. But...possible."

Or maybe it was just because she was Kate Beckett. The woman who could drink both him and her partners under the table and had a scary tolerance for all things extreme and dangerous.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"The effects of the naloxone don't last as long as the effects of the heroin in her system." The doctor glanced at his watch. "We gave it to her nearly half an hour ago. It'll wear off soon."

"And then?"

"She'll likely need another dose and probably another one after that."

"Is that okay?"

"We can safely give her up to ten milligrams."

"That'll be enough?"

"Hopefully."

" _Hopefully_?"

"Mr. Castle, we're going to do whatever we can for her. But in a case like this, there aren't that many options. It's a waiting game. To see how she reacts to the drugs."

Castle managed a garbled "thank you" before stepping away from the doctor, grabbing a chair and pushing it next to his wife's bed. He took one of her hands into his own again and held it tight. Her dark eyes followed him, fully aware this time.

Conscious and awake had to be a good sign. "Doc says we have to wait," he whispered to her, leaning over to feather a kiss on her forehead. "I don't mind waiting as long as you keep breathing. Deal?"

He might have imagined it but Castle thought he saw the panic in her eyes recede in response to his voice and his touch.

In that case, he'd hold on to her and keep talking until it was completely gone. No matter how long it took.

* * *

 _Waiting Room_

Detective Javier Esposito handed the man a cup of coffee and a sandwich before sitting down in the chair next to him and pulling the police issue notebook from his jacket pocket.

The homeless man looked at him skeptically.

"It's not a bribe," Espo assured him. "You looked like you could use them."

The man nodded wordlessly, opened a portion of the plastic lid on his cup and took a sip of the coffee.

"Lemme know if you want more sugar or milk."

"S'good."

Espo gave him a moment. Let the man take a few bites of his sandwich while he thought about the questions he needed to ask. Observed him in the process. Those not immune to the smells of death and decay the way he was, might've found it hard to focus on anything beyond the guy's odour.

The guy reeked. Sweat and urine mostly. Alcohol too. He had the smell of someone who drank until he crashed in alleyways and showered once every couple of weeks. If that.

His clothes were layered, stained and ripped. The left sleeve of his brown jacket was completely torn off, exposing parts of his arm and parts of a chequered shirt underneath.

The smell didn't bother Esposito.

After his first few homicide crime scenes, decomposing bodies and all, everything else that followed was tolerable. He doused himself with a liberal amount of cologne every morning and today it did a decent job masking the odour of the guy sitting next to him.

It was neither the smell nor the dirty clothes that caught Espo's attention, but the tattoo on an exposed part of the man's left arm. A familiar insignia that he recognized instantly.

"You ex-Marine, Leon?" Javi asked him after he took down his name.

The man's eyes narrowed and Javi saw embarrassment there.

"Long time ago."

Javi raised a flat hand to his temple and gave him a simple salute. "Once a Marine, always a Marine, bro. Semper fi."

"You too?"

"Special forces."

"You did good," the man told him after he finished the last of his sandwich. He'd wolfed it down as though it was the first meal he had in some time. "Didn't end up on the street like me. A drunk."

"I had help," Javi admitted. "Didn't have any injuries and the shit I saw didn't mess me up that badly that I couldn't work." Esposito knew that wasn't true for everyone and he wasn't about to judge those who fell through the cracks. In fact, he made a mental note to buy the guy another meal after he finished his interrogation. "I need to ask you some questions."

"Sure." The man wiped his lips with the one sleeve that did extend down to his wrist. "Tell me. She gonna live?"

The question took him aback because Espo didn't have an answer. "If she does, it's thanks to you. Doctor said if you hadn't brought her in when you did she wouldn't be alive now."

"She your girl?"

"Girl?" Espo chuckled. Not that it hadn't ever occurred to him when he first started working with Beckett. "Nah. She's my boss and my friend."

"She's a cop too?"

"She's our captain."

"No way!" The man's eyes crinkled. "Thought she was a hooker. She ain't got much meat on her bones. Looked like an addict. Like all of 'em."

Javi made a face.

"Sorry, man. Don't mean no disrespect."

"Look, doesn't matter what you thought. You saved her life. We're grateful for what you did. But I have some questions on how she got in that alley, how you found her."

"Didn't find her. She found me."

'What do you mean?"

"Was sleepin' behind a dumpster when I saw the van comin' through. It woke me up."

"A van? Can you describe it?"

"Was a van. White."

"Can you give me any details? Any markings on the van? Did you see a driver or catch any of the license plate?"

"It was late," he told him. "And it was gettin' dark. I was behind the dumpster. That's how come they didn't see me."

Espo wondered what might've happened to him if had they seen him. "Yeah, but you're a marine. That means you notice things. Tell me everything you saw."

"I didn't see the driver but- " The man shifted in his seat. Uncomfortable.

"But what?" Javi pressed.

"Saw some numbers on the plate, the ones at the end. The last ones."

"Tell me."

"Not sure if I remember right."

"I think you do."

"6671."

Espo wrote them down. "That helps. A lot."

"I don't know if they're right. Sometimes my memory... gets fuzzy."

"Did the van stop when it dropped Captain Beckett in the alley?"

"Nah- it didn't even slow down much. They just opened the door and kicked her out."

"Did you see the person who opened the door?"

"I saw a lot of black. Black hats. Black jackets, dark pants."

"Did you catch anything else? What about the number of people in the van?"

"No idea."

"Could you tell me anything about them at all...height, weight, whether they were male or female? Anything that stood out to you?"

"Not really, man. Think it was all men."

Esposito tried not to show his disappointment. "What happened next?"

"The van drove off. I waited 'til it was gone then I got up to look at her. She wasn't conscious. I thought she was dead but then I checked for a pulse and found one. But she wasn't breathing much...her skin was weird, you know..." He was searching for the word. "Rubbery kind of, too smooth and cold...and her fingernails were turning blue." He coughed and then drank some more coffee. "S'easy to tell with white people and I know what an overdose looks like. Seen plenty."

"Do you remember the exact time when this happened?"

The man snorted. "Do I look I got a watch and a phone?"

"So how'd you call for help?"

"I didn't- I picked her up and walked out of the alley with her. She was heavy, man. Dead weight. Thought I was gonna drop her. But the Lord, he gave me strength. Told me I had to do what I could, you know? And when I see an OD like that...I know she ain't got much time."

"You walked her to the hospital?" That wasn't the story he'd been told from the nurse. Maybe Leon was mixing up his facts.

"No, man...first guy I saw with a phone on the street, I told him to call 911. That's when the ambulance came."

"Oh, right."

"I was gonna leave her with him- but the paramedic, he told me I should come too. 'Cause I found her. In case someone had questions or something..." He smiled. "Guess he was right. 'Cause here I am talkin' to you."

"Yeah." Espo closed his notebook. He hoped that the licence plate numbers would yield something, otherwise they had nothing. At least not until Beckett told them more.

And that _was_ gonna happen, he told himself.

He got up and put the notebook back in his pocket. "Want another sandwich?"

"That'd be real nice."

* * *

 _Emergency Room_ _  
_

Castle hadn't been sitting there for very long when he suddenly felt Kate grip his hand hard. Saw her pushing the oxygen mask from her face again.

"Kate, don't-"

"Castle...can't..."

"Can't what?"

"Air- " She was gasping for breath and then her eyes closed just before her heart monitor made the most terrifying sound he ever heard.

She was flat lining.

Castle let go of her and jumped up, scrambling madly to find a doctor. But they were already in the room as soon as he was up. Two of them came running in, including the one who'd talked to him earlier, as well a nurse.

One of them pushed him away, towards the nearest wall, as soon as they started working on Kate. They crowded around her too much for him to see what they were doing. All that he could see was that the line on the monitor was still flat. That horrible sound wormed its way into his ears and threatened to stop his own heart from beating.

"Sir- " Someone was talking to him. "You probably shouldn't be in here, while they're doing this." Another nurse had made her way into the room, tried to nudge him outside but he wouldn't have it.

"No. I'm not leaving."

Maybe none of this would have happened if he'd been at her side tonight.

Seconds felt like hours and the flat line on the monitor wasn't budging. Castle's eyes were glued to it and still it refused to beep.

His knees suddenly gave out and Castle sank to floor, plopping down with an ungraceful thud, after his back slid down the wall. He pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle a sob.

Kate's heart had to start beating again. Had to. Because it couldn't end like this.

Not like this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

 _Harlem Hospital Center, NY_

His knees were still wobbly when he finally left Beckett's room, after much prodding, cajoling and reassuring by the young nurse.

"Richard?" His mother jumped from a chair in the waiting room and came towards him. Slipped an arm around his and guided him slowly into one of the seats while Alexis watched on.

"Dad?" His daughter looked terrified. "Is Kate okay?"

"She, uh- " Castle barely noticed his mother pressing a Styrofoam cup into his hands. But he took it gratefully because his mouth was so dry. It was an herbal tea of sorts and he was grateful for that too, because caffeine was the last thing he needed. "She went into cardiac arrest. Her heart stopped," he explained after taking a sip. "But they were...they were able to start it again. They gave her another dose of that drug- " His muddled brain couldn't remember what it was called. He, who usually remembered every obscure fact he heard, was incapable of retaining anything tonight. "This drug that counteracts the effects of the heroin."

"She'll be okay with that?" Alexis wanted to know. Her voice sounded small and young. His daughter loved Kate too and Castle wondered whether Beckett ever gave that any consideration when she walked out of both their lives.

"They hope so. She's been breathing normally since and they haven't put her on a ventilator. They're telling me that's a good sign."

 _Hopefully_. It was the same word the doctor had used on him for a second time tonight. What scared Castle the most was that the doctor didn't seem at all surprised by her cardiac arrest. He'd almost expected it.

"Is she awake? Can we see her? Maybe seeing us will help..."

Alexis didn't finish and Castle didn't get a chance to answer her because Javier Esposito showed up, along with Detective Kevin Ryan, who was tightening his tie as though he'd come straight from one of his second jobs to work this case.

"Any update on Beckett?" Espo asked.

"She's, uh..." _She nearly died. Again._ "Hanging on."

Ryan's face was sombre. "Good."

"She's tough," Espo reminded them. Castle guessed that he was saying it for his benefit as much as he did for theirs. "I talked to the guy who brought her in. Didn't get much from him but I'm hoping we'll pull something from a partial plate number he gave us. Couldn't get a hold of Vikram at the precinct but I've had another tech run it and he'll let us know as soon as he gets something."

Castle didn't know what to say to that. Was that supposed to be good news?

"Hopefully Beckett can give us more than that once she comes around," Ryan added.

"Yeah." Castle added. Truth was he couldn't care less about answers right now. He just needed her to make it through the night.

"We need to head back to the precinct," Espo told them. "Keep us posted if anything changes with Beckett, 'kay, bro? Let us know as soon as she's up for talking with us."

"We have two uniforms posted outside the room she's in," Ryan added. "She's safe."

"Okay." He was numb, unable to digest what that meant.

"Castle," Espo gestured to him. "Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone."

Rick got up and stepped towards the detective who motioned him into the hallway along with his partner.

"Ryan and I want to put a detail on you and your family as well."

"A what?"

"A protective detail. At least until we know who did this to her. We wanna make sure we take every precaution."

"You think my family and I are in danger?"

"Not sayin' that," Espo told him. "But until we know more, we wanna make sure. At least the next twenty-four hours. I offered it to Leon too. That's the guy who brought her in. But he refused. Couldn't convince him to have a cop around twenty-four seven."

"Alright." Castle gave them a silent nod goodbye and watched them head towards the elevator.

Then he stepped back into the waiting room and sank back into a chair.

"Darling," he heard his mother tell Alexis. "Can you get me another coffee?"

"Sure. " His daughter got up and made her way down the hall in her flip flops, and Castle knew Alexis was only humouring his mother's need to talk to him alone.

Martha Rodgers scooted closer to him. As close as the flimsy partitions between the plastic chairs allowed. "Darling, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, mother."

"You are not fine, darling," she hissed. "Not even close."

"I will be."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with Katherine?" She cast a worried glance in his direction.

Castle leaned back and exhaled. He really was drained. Thoroughly exhausted from the unfathomably long minutes during which he'd watched Kate die and come back to life. For a second time in this lifetime. "I don't know what to tell you...I don't know much myself."

"Heroin overdose, Richard, what in God's name is that about? Is that why she left?" Martha questioned, lowering her voice. " _Does Katherine have a drug problem_?"

"What?" It took a moment for the question to sink in and when it did he shook his head vehemently. "No. No...of course not. Someone did this to her...they tried to kill her. They injected her with what they hoped was a lethal dose." Just saying the words out loud nauseated him. What the hell was she involved in? Was he even certain she didn't have a drug problem? That she didn't do this to herself?

Yes. He was. Whether or not he hadn't talked to her in weeks, didn't change that certainty.

Beckett was a lot things. Infuriating, frustrating, maddening things. She might even have one too many drinks after a terrible day. But she didn't shoot up with drugs and she wasn't suicidal. He'd stake his life on it.

Martha gasped. "Is that why there are two policemen standing outside her room?"

"Yes."

"Has someone notified her father?"

"The boys tried getting a hold of him. Apparently he's got a voicemail on his cell saying he's out of the country for some legal symposium. They left a message for him to call me. But nothing yet."

"Oh, poor Jim," Martha sighed. "That girl's penchant for danger has aged him, I tell you."

"Mother, can you do me a favour?"

"Of course."

"Take Alexis home."

"I think she might have something to say about that. She wants to be here with you. She loves Katherine too."

"There's nothing either of you can do right now."

"We can be here for _you_."

"Mother..." He wanted to make sure she didn't take this the wrong way. That this wasn't about not wanting them nearby. "I just need to be with Kate tonight."

Understanding dawned on her features. Underneath the flashy outfits and her penchant for the melodramatic, his mother was so much more intuitive than he sometimes gave her credit for. "Of course you do. You need to be with her without worrying about us. I'll explain to Alexis when she comes back."

Castle leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

Martha smiled. "In spite of my all my efforts, you turned out so beautifully, kiddo."

"Because of. Not in spite of," he corrected her softly.

Castle embraced her before making his way back to Beckett's room. It felt like he'd already been away far too long. So much could have happened since he left her side.

The same homeless man Espo pointed out to him earlier caught his attention on the way there. Castle stopped when he saw him. "You're the man who brought her here, aren't you?"

The man put down his coffee and looked up at him with bleary, lined eyes. "You mean the lady cop who OD'd?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, that was me. You here to talk to me too? The other detective said I could leave. All I had to do was tell him where I was gonna be." He made a clucking noise with his tongue. "How the hell do I know where I'm gonna be? Gonna stay here a little longer. S'getting cold outside tonight."

"I'm not a cop. But the woman you brought here, she's my wife."

The man's expression changed. Castle saw pity, curiosity and sudden distrust. "That right?"

"The doctor told me the only reason she's alive is because you brought her here when you did. That it was a matter of minutes."

"S'that what they said?"

"Thank you," Castle blurted out. Thank you wasn't enough. Not for someone who had so little and yet had given him e _verything_ tonight. "Is there something I can...something I can give you? To thank you?"

The homeless man chuckled, revealing a missing front tooth as the distrust left his weathered face. Deciding that maybe the husband wasn't the reason Beckett had OD'd in an alley after all. "Didn't drag her here for a reward, man."

Castle cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

"Yeah, that's what you meant. Hey, s'okay. Don't blame you. But if you gimme money..." His face darkened as he stood up, ready to leave. "Bad idea, man. Better you don't."

Castle noticed the man tightening his torn jacket around him and quickly took off his own leather jacket. "Here..." he handed it to the man. It would be only slightly big on him. "It's cold outside. You said it yourself."

The man was stunned. "You sure about that?"

"Yes."

"S'a really nice coat."

Castle managed a smile. "Looks good on you."

The man draped it over his own filthy jacket. "Thanks."

"There's a pen and some business cards in the inside pocket. My number's there," Castle told him. "If you need anything else, you let me know."

As if a leather coat could possibly measure his gratitude. _As if_.

"Nah, nothin' else. This is perfect. Dinner and a coat and your lady's gonna live. Shit night turned out good."

Castle thought he saw him grinning as he walked down the busy hospital corridor, away from him.

He passed by the two uniforms keeping guard next to a door, letting him know he was back near Beckett's room. He walked into it, up to her bedside, and noisily pulled a chair up next to her again. Took her hand into his once again. Kate eyes were open and she wasn't wearing the oxygen mask anymore.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey." She sounded weak and hoarse. As if that one word required a monumental effort.

"It's alright. Don't talk. No need." His thumb ran along the top of her hand. "We had a deal, Kate. I'll stay and you keep breathing. What you did earlier...that wasn't part of the deal."

"Sorry." Her hand squeezed his with a pitiful amount of force. "Tried."

"It's alright. I forgive you. But don't you dare do it again."

"Okay." A fragile smile raised the corners of her lips. "Try harder."

"Yeah, you try harder, Beckett. 'Cause I can't handle that that again." He brushed a strand of hair from her face and bent down to kiss her forehead. Closed his eyes and let his lips linger because that's how close he wanted to remain. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin and the pulse of her heartbeat underneath it. Close enough to _make sure_.

What he really wanted was to climb into the bed with her. Debated it for a moment and stopped himself only because he feared they might kick him out if he did.

"Doc says I should try and keep you awake and alert," he told her, reluctantly pulling his lips away and focusing on the cut that ran down her temple. It was framed by a growing bruise and it made Castle wonder all over again what the hell happened to her tonight. How many other bruises he'd find on her body if she'd let him check.

Then again, this was Beckett, if someone had tried to grab her and inject her with heroin she wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

He should have been there. But he wasn't because she'd decided to take this on herself. Whatever _this_ was.

What if that homeless man hadn't been in the alley when they dumped her? Kate would've died there alone, next to a dumpster, while he was playing board games at home.

It gutted him. Broke his heart and made him want to punch something.

How the hell did they get to this point?

"Rick..." Her hand reached for his face and almost yanked off one of the monitors they'd connected to her finger. God, she was awful at looking after herself.

"Hey...don't do that." Castle made sure it stayed on. "I'm gonna grab another chair and some magazines from the waiting room. Read you salacious, horribly-written articles on how to satisfy your man. For the next time you keep me up all night."

Maybe he was an optimistic fool but even after two months apart, he didn't doubt it would happen. That she would keep him up all night again; in infinitely more enjoyable circumstances. Two months apart, and in spite of all his anger and frustration, he never truly believed his marriage was over.

He doubted a lot of things about Beckett lately. But not her love for him.

That got another smile out of her. That was still one of his favourite skills. Making her smile.

"I don't satisfy you, Castle?"

He leaned back into her and kissed her again. On her lips this time. His need to feel her skin on his was ridiculous tonight. It had been too long. "Oh, you do. Plenty."

 _Did_. She did. Back when she still came home to him at the end of the day.

Castle made good on his threat. He found a well-worn issue of Cosmopolitan, dragged a second chair next to her bed across from his, so he could put up his feet and turn it into a poor-man's recliner. Then he started going through it. Articles about the art of bedroom eyes, the joys of jealousy and when to start using Botox. They were so fabulously awful he couldn't stop. Best of all, the steady lull of his voice kept her awake and sometimes even made her laugh.

About an hour later, he saw her start to drift back off, and struggle to breathe again, as the heroin tried once more to gain the upper hand in the battle of drugs raging through her body. The doctor came back in and gave her a final dose of naloxone which brought her back into full consciousness.

"This should do it," the doctor told him. Should. Not hopefully. Castle picked up on his choice of words and it flooded him with relief.

It meant Beckett was too uncomfortable to sleep, but apparently that was a good sign too because four hours later the doctor told him she was in the clear and Castle, after downing three cups of coffee, finally set down the last magazine (Vogue this time, which wasn't nearly as hilarious, although he did learn a lot about snake-skin patterns) and gave in to his exhaustion. Let himself close his eyes and drift off.

Just for a few minutes.

* * *

 _Later_

Kate watched him sleep after he dozed off. He told her he wouldn't sleep, just close his eyes, but she that wouldn't happen.

He was hunched over her bed, his face plopped down sideways on top of his folded arms, one cheek squished right into them.

It used to be a familiar sight, that morning face pressed into a pillow next to hers, sometimes right into hers, back in the days when she still woke up next to him. Usually before him, because he loved to sleep late in their gorgeous bedroom at the loft.

 _Home._

She still thought of the loft as home even though she hadn't lived there for nearly two months. Before that she only lived there, _truly lived there_ , for less than a year before she moved out, so maybe it shouldn't feel like home. But of course it did. Because he was there.

Castle was home. And now he was here.

He'd stayed here all night and did everything in his power to make sure she'd live to see the morning.

It took her breath away sometimes; the depth of his love for her.

It made Kate want to grab him, hold on and beg him to never to let her go again. She wanted to tell him that hurting him was the last thing she ever wanted to do. Wanted to say it over and over again, until he believed it. No matter how long it took.

But another, less vulnerable, part of her wanted to do whatever it took to push him away.

This was so wrong. Him clinging to her like this in a public hospital and letting the whole world know how much they meant to each other; was stupidly dangerous.

She was toxic right now and last night was ample proof of that. Castle being near her was only going to get him killed and she'd rather let her heart shatter into a million pieces than risk the thought of a world without Richard Castle in it.

Even though right now, she had neither the heart nor the energy to do what it would take to get him to leave.

So she watched him sleep instead.

Watched the subtle flicker of his eyelids and their long, beautiful lashes in his half-dream state. They way they deepened the laugh lines that she adored and how his lips occasionally scrunched together, as if there was had something he wanted to say.

She let her eyes soak in all the details, unblinking.

It was a good distraction from how awful she felt. Every fibre of her body was sore and off somehow. She was so nauseated she was afraid that Castle would wake up to the sound of her emptying the contents of her stomach into one of those kidney-shaped pans on the bedside table. Her head throbbed so hard it felt like her skull might explode and her entire abdomen was wracked with fierce, unnatural cramps that made her want to curl into a ball.

This was definitely worse than the worst hangover she ever had.

"Yo, Captain." She heard Javier Esposito's voice before she saw him enter her room. For someone who was marked for death, she was doing a terrible job of staying aware of her surroundings.

"Javi." Kate wondered if she looked as awful as she felt.

"Doc said you're doing better."

"Yeah," she told him. "Gonna live." _For now._

"There are a lot of people that are damn happy about that," Espo said. He grinned after he said it and turned attention over to Castle. "Especially this lump over here."

She chuckled. Javier Esposito was always a good antidote to her morbid thoughts. "Watch it, Espo. That's my lump you're talking about."

Kate bit her tongue. It was a slip. Her protectiveness over Castle; letting Javi know how much she still cared about her husband. Both him and Ryan had tried more than once in these last two months, to ask her about her separation from Castle, about her strange decision to walk out on her marriage less than a year into it. But she'd kept them and their curiosity at arm's length. Hadn't given them much of anything in terms of an explanation. So she wasn't surprised that Javi sat here now, staring at Castle sleeping at her bedside, trying to figure it all out.

"I'm glad you're okay too," was all he said.

She also wasn't surprised that Javi was here to talk to her, not Kevin.

She'd always consider Kevin Ryan a friend. One of the finest detectives and most decent human beings she knew. He was sweet and kind, open-hearted and open-minded and sometimes he reminded her so much of Castle. They _were_ alike, and she suspected it's why they got along so well; Kevin and Rick.

But with her and Javi it was different. The two of them, they were brothers in arms and deep down they were cut from the same cloth, no matter how dissimilar their backgrounds.

Javier was the only who stood by her when she decided to go after Maddox alone. The only who understood _why_ she had to do it. He was also the only who knew what she was going through years ago, when she hit a wall and spiralled out of control, unable to handle the pressure of working a sniper case only months after she'd been shot by one herself.

Espo was the one who made her face her demons, no matter how much stubborn resistance she put up.

"You up for some questions?"

Kate pushed herself up a bit, so she wasn't entirely horizontal. "Sure."

"I won't take long," he said softly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Castle, who was snoring softly.

"I'm good, Javi."

"Okay." He acknowledged. "You wanna start at the beginning?"

"I was at the garage, the one at the precinct, walking to my car..."

"Time?"

Kate closed her eyes. Good question. She often left the precinct late in the evening these days. But not yesterday. Yesterday she had plans to meet up with Vikram.

 _Shit_.

Vikram.

She had to get a hold of him. They'd hit a major lead yesterday and then she'd been kidnapped and almost killed. What if he-?

"Beckett?"

"I, uh...I'm not sure. It wasn't late. Maybe five or five fifteen. I was walking towards my car when a white van pulled into the garage. I didn't pay it all that much attention until the door opened and four people jumped out."

"Can you describe them?"

Kate shook her head. "Not really...judging from their build I'm pretty sure they were all men. But that's it. They were masked and dressed all in black."

"Four of them?"

"Yeah." She paused. Her recollection of it all was more than a little fuzzy and she had to concentrate to remember. The splitting headache didn't help. "I remember drawing my service weapon...trying to anyway."

"Were they pointing guns at you?"

"Yes."

"But you still drew your weapon?" Esposito questioned.

The moment the four men jumped from the van Kate didn't think she stood a chance because she knew exactly that LockSat had sent them. Didn't think then that she was going to leave the garage alive. It's why she drew her weapon. But she wasn't going to tell Javi that.

"I barely had a chance to pull if from my holster. They were too fast and too close. One of the guys tackled me and threw me to the ground. He was crazy strong." Kate remembered slamming her head on the concrete floor so hard that she saw stars.

"Then what?"

"They dragged me into the van and..."

"Espo? What's going on here?" Castle roused from his sleep and cut her off, while pushing himself off the bed.

"Just asking Beckett some questions," Esposito explained. "Sooner we know more about what happened to her last night, the sooner we can find out who did this."

"Kate?" Castle rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He couldn't have slept for more than an hour and still looked bone-weary exhausted. "Are you up for this?" He asked her, glaring at Javi.

"Castle, it's fine. He needs to do this."

" _You_ need to rest."

"Look, bro, longer we argue the more it's gonna wear her out," Esposito countered.

"Did you know her heart stopped last night?"

"Guys... _come on_." Beckett cut in. She did _not_ have the energy for this. Not that she blamed Castle. She'd probably have pushed Espo out of the room if the tables were turned and she were in his shoes.

But she needed to get this over with. Give Espo what he wanted so as to hold him off for at least a day or two.

"I'll be quick," Esposito promised. "After they pulled you into the van...what did they say?"

 _"If you keep insisting on playing with fire, Captain, it's inevitable that you'll get burned."_

The man behind the face mask had a deep, cultured voice. He was educated. Not a street thug from the Bronx or Brooklyn. That much she could tell from his speech.

Kate shivered at the recollection. Couldn't bring herself to mention it to Espo, knowing it would unleash a whole other set of questions that she wasn't ready to answer.

"Beckett?"

"They didn't say anything."

"You sure?" Espo's brows narrowed. "Nothing at all?"

 _"I think you'll be impressed at the poetic justice of this evening, Captain. That the heroin you've been chasing has found you in the end."_

"I was out of it," she told Esposito. "Hit my head pretty hard."

"Do you remember how long you drove? You have any idea where they took you?"

They drove for some time. Some time after they restrained her, before she felt a needle in her arm.

 _"Something to relax you before you think about causing us more trouble tonight. It'll reinforce the effects of the heroin. Added insurance for us."_

"They injected me with something," she told Esposito. "That's the last thing I remember."

"They gave you the heroin in the van?"

"Heroin?" Kate stared at him. "No, I don't think it was heroin. Least not at first. It was a sedative or something and it made me pass out. That's the last thing I remember before waking up here...in the hospital."

That was a lie too. There were other snippets of conversation but she pushed them from her thoughts. Forced herself to focus on something mundane instead.

Like the way Espo's thumb kept flicking the top of his pen, pushing the little knob in and out. In with the pad of his thumb and out with the tip of his nail.

"The doctor said they found other drugs in her system, aside from the heroin," Castle added. She could see the concern on his face, in the way his gaze lingered on her for too long.

"Beckett," Javi closed his notebook. "Do you have any idea who's behind this?"

She shook her head. "No."

"This whole thing- " Esposito paused and frowned, as if debating how to spell this out while hoping that maybe she'd do it for him.

Fine. She'd give him that much. She had to. She'd be the lousiest cop ever if she tried to make this out to be a random attack.

"I know" She replied. "It doesn't seem random. It wasn't a mugging and if they wanted me dead they could have shot me in the garage."

"It's more than that..." Esposito added. "The fact that they dumped you in an alley, in Washington Heights, Vulcan Simmons' old territory. The place where your mother first stood up to those guys."

"What?" Kate hadn't known that. That detail threw her for a loop. "I didn't know." Between salacious articles, Castle had told her that someone injected her with a near lethal amount of drugs, but he hadn't mentioned that they'd dumped her in an alley. Left her to die there just like her mother. Her voice suddenly sounded far away to her ears.

"It's a _helluva_ message, Beckett. You really have no idea who this could be? Maybe a case that..."

His voice was starting to sound distant too. Kate closed her eyes.

"Espo...stop." Castle cut off the detective. "That's enough."

She opened them again. Her lids impossibly heavy. "Wish I could give you more."

"Nah, it's good," Esposito insisted. "The time frame you gave us, the location where they took you, that's big. The garage has security cameras. There's street cams around the block. We should get an ID on the white van with that."

Kate exhaled. "I hope so."

"If anything else comes to mind when you're back at the loft-" Esposito stopped, as if suddenly aware that they weren't together anymore. "I mean, once you're outta here, lemme know if remember anything else. Alright, boss?"

"I will."

He told her to get better, to stay away from the precinct a for couple of days and then he left them both to head back to the Twelfth.

Castle didn't take his eyes off her during the entire exchange.

"I don't even know where you're staying," he finally whispered after Esposito was gone. "Don't know where my wife has been sleeping for two months before they found her shot up with heroin, half-dead in a back alley."

It broke her heart. The look in his eyes when he said it.

But Castle not knowing was what would keep him away. It would keep him alive and right now that's all that mattered. His safety was the one thing she would not compromise in this godawful mess.

"But- " his blue eyes locked with hers, a swirling mix of love, anger and determination. "I do know that I'm taking you home today."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

 _Washington DC_

The massive columns flanking the Jefferson Memorial loomed behind, dark clouds hung in the sky above and still waters of the Tidal Basin spread out in front of them. Two steps forward and they'd be in the water.

The judge felt a sudden urge to push the man standing next to him into the giant pool. It wouldn't begin to quell his rage because it wouldn't be fatal. But it might lessen it for a moment.

Of course he wouldn't do it.

Not because they were in an area full of tourists, including a gaggle of noisy teenage selfie-takers, scattered around the steps of the monument behind them. But because it wasn't the right time. There were more pressing things at hand right now.

"She didn't die." It wasn't a question.

The other man's lips were nearly blue in the autumn chill and he shivered in his thin trench coat. The man was gaunt; thin to the point of appearing skeletal. The judge, who was fit and strong, found it repulsive.

"Apparently there was a homeless guy, hidden behind the garbage in the alley," the man explained. "It was dark when we dumped her. No way we could have seen-"

"She didn't die _and_ there was witness." The judge's jaw tightened, threatening to lock with anger. He'd have to unleash it somehow. Maybe later at the gym. Or by paying one of his mistresses a visit before going back to work. The one who liked it rough.

The man standing next to him would have to pay somehow. He couldn't let him get away with this. He couldn't let others on his payroll even _think_ that this kind of screw up was acceptable.

"He couldn't have seen anything. It was dark."

"The witness is only part of the problem. The fact that she's still alive is a much bigger problem. Thought you gave her enough to put down an elephant."

"We thought-"

"Clearly you didn't."

"What about the other job? Her partner?" The man asked. "And what about the knife?"

The judge had already thought this through. The minute he found out that she was still alive. Truth was, Beckett didn't _have_ to die for it to work. It could still work, in a different way. With a different, equally harmful, outcome. "Leave it as we planned."

"Yes, boss."

"I trust you'll take care of that homeless nuisance that found her?"

"Of course." The man's blue lip quivered. "On the house."

The judge turned and walked away. Didn't so much as look back at the man as he muttered his last words under his breath. "I should hope so."

* * *

 _Harlem Hospital Center, New York City_

They insisted on keeping her until afternoon, on running a couple more tests to make sure her heart would keep beating given her bullet-to-the-chest medical history. Beckett suspected it was Castle who insisted on them. Not the doctor.

Alexis was the one who'd brought her a fresh change of clothes in the morning before heading into the PI office, because Castle wouldn't leave her side and now Kate had the curtains drawn around her hospital bed in order to change into them. A clean pair of jeans and one of her favourite wool sweaters; a thick white turtleneck that would help to warm her up.

Kate hadn't been able to get warm since she woke up here, brought back into jarring consciousness by some counteractive drug. She still hadn't slept and still felt terrible but she had to find a way to evade both her overprotective husband and the two uniforms assigned to tail her every move.

And she desperately needed a phone to try and get a hold of Vikram. A phone to call Espo and tell him to take one of the uniforms off her and put him on Alexis.

"Need a hand getting dressed?" Castle's head, and only his head, peeked through a partition in the curtains. "I'm very good at getting you out of your clothes...getting you into them is basically just the reverse. Think I could do it."

She smirked. It was impossible not to; Castle had that effect on her. Of melting her anger and pushing aside the storm clouds hanging above her. "Nice of you to offer, but I think I can manage."

"Well, fine then. Be like that." Castle's eyes lit up as he slipped into her hospital bed enclave. "I signed the release papers."

"Thank you."

"Doc says you should try and get some food in you. Even if you can't keep it down."

"Okay, I will. Any chance you were able to get a phone?" She'd asked him for one as soon as Espo left, certain that she'd never see hers again after last night.

"Alexis got a burner. I told her to leave it at the loft for you."

"I see." This was Castle's version of blackmail. _If you want the phone you'll have to come home._ Not that she wasn't capable of getting one on her own once she was out of here.

Beckett tightened her lips. "Rick, I can't come back to the loft with you." They'd already had this argument and she wasn't really up for another round.

"You can and you will." Gone was the light mood he'd brought into her space. There was a harshness in his voice now that wasn't like him. The last time she'd caught glimpses of this Castle was when Alexis had been kidnapped. He put his hands on her upper arms. Pulled her into him and lowered his voice so no one could hear. "You asked me to give you time and space. Asked me to trust you." His eyes demanded her attention. "For _two months_ I gave you what you asked for. It ended with you almost dead in an alley and with me no longer having any clue as to what's going on with your life."

"Castle-"

"No more, Kate." He cut her off. "When we said those vows a year ago, I thought they meant something. Whatever the hell kind of mess you got yourself into, you're not doing it alone anymore. Even if you kept me out of it because of some deluded notion that I'll be safer that way. Marriage is about doing it together, for better or worse."

Beckett grabbed a fistful of his shirt. If he wasn't going to care about his own safety she would at least try and make him see what this could mean for his family. "You have no idea what these guys are capable of-"

"I do actually. I'm the one who got the call after they shot you full of heroin, dumped you in an alley and left you for dead."

"Castle-"

"That confirms you were lying to Espo when you told him you had no idea who did this. I figured as much."

Beckett grabbed him tighter. This was so beyond the point right now. "My going to the loft would paint a giant target on your home. Do you _really_ want to put your family in the crosshairs? Your mother and your daughter? Because I don't. I won't."

"Does it ever occur to you that you're part of our family? That it would kill all of us to lose you?"

"Are you even listening to me?" She had to get this through his thick skull somehow. "Me staying with you is risking their lives!"

"You listen to me, Beckett. They've got two uniforms assigned to you and one each for my mother and daughter"

 _Thank god,_ Beckett thought. It wasn't much but at least that.

"There are thick drapes over every window at the loft. You and I are both pretty damn good shots with a gun, especially if we're backing each other up. In other words, unless someone blows up the entire building, my loft is the safest place for all of us right now."

"No, it's not."

"If you try and ditch me, I will follow you this time, Kate. And let's face it in your state, losing me won't be as easy as it was the last time. Then you can feel guilty as hell if it blows up in all our faces."

Beckett blushed, an angry heat surging up in her cheeks. He was so good at knowing exactly which buttons of hers to push. Always had been. "Don't joke about this."

"Do I sound like I'm joking?"

"Castle- "

"You're coming home," he repeated. "If I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "Don't ever think I don't _want_ to come home."

"You're coming home," he said it once more, hammering it in with a finality that let her know it wasn't up for discussion. His hand moved up to her face, trailing an index finger from her bruised temple down to her jaw, grimacing at the sight of it. "And after you finally get some sleep, you're going to tell me _everything_."

* * *

 _Later_

It was late afternoon by the time they left the hospital in an unmarked police cruiser, right in the middle of rush hour.

"How 'bout putting the siren on?" Castle suggested to the officer who was driving. It got him a dirty look. "Guess that's a no," he mumbled.

At one point Beckett insisted they pull over because the stop and go traffic was making her queasy and she thought she was going to be sick. He'd stepped out of the car with her, more afraid of her trying to make a run for it than her throwing up on the sidewalk.

Beckett didn't do either and after they were back in the car, he could feel her body weight sagging into his, finally losing the battle to stay awake. Frankly, he was surprised that she was still awake. Dirty, matted hair caught his lips when he turned his head in her direction and he made a face as the smell of it entered his nostrils.

Beckett needed a shower as badly as she needed sleep. Maybe more so.

By the time they'd reached the loft, she was asleep against his shoulder and he barely had the heart to wake her. He'd have carried her upstairs if he didn't think she'd kill him for doing it in front of two of her officers.

"Hey," He nudged his face into hers. "Come on, wake up, sweetheart. We're home."

She moaned and mumbled something unintelligible before her lids fluttered open. "Castle?"

He gave her a little push. "That's right. Home."

She leaned her head back into the seat before pushing herself off it without another word, holding on to the car door for balance as she got out.

Castle followed her and in turn, the two officers followed them. Leaving the cruiser right outside their building where they'd stopped. Illegally parked.

Kate was ghostly pale as they rode the elevator up and for a moment he thought she might throw up or even pass out, but all she did was acknowledge and thank the two officer who told them that they'd keep watch outside the door.

Once she was inside the loft, Beckett made a beeline for the sofa. Ready to collapse into it.

"Oh no you don't," Castle grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Shower and bed. In that order."

"Castle-" she groaned, eyelids starting to close again. He knew that she'd have fought him harder if she wasn't at the end of her rope.

"You'll thank me for it later." He held on to her arm and led her up the stairs, straight into their master bathroom. Turned on the shower, as she sat down on the cover of the toilet seat and cupped her head in her hands.

Then he took off his shirt and jeans.

Kate looked up at him sleepily. "What are you doing?"

"Gonna shower with you."

"Not that I mind or anything but I can shower myself."

"You can barely stand up," he corrected her. "Would hate for you to fall in the tub and have a matching bruise on the other side of your head."

Beckett made a face.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "So you gonna shower with your clothes on, Mrs. Castle?"

Kate rolled her eyes and slowly took off her clothes, dropping each piece on the floor as she shed it.

Castle swallowed, unable to help his wandering eyes. It had been two months since he'd seen her like this. All of her. He couldn't help all the things it stirred in him.

"Come on," he pushed his desires back and held out his hand, pulled her up into him, once the water was nice and hot. She stepped in first and he poured some shampoo into his hands before following her. She wouldn't last long so he figured they needed to make this quick.

He saw her close her eyes once she stood underneath the giant rainforest shower head. Let the strong streams of hot water massage her sore body. It used to be one of her favourite things about the loft, after they first got together and she started spending nights here. The way the powerful flow of water loosened her stiff muscles after a gruelling work-out or a rough day at the precinct.

 _"Oh my god, Castle...your shower. It's heaven! Who needs spas and massages when you have this? Does this flaunt every water conservation law in the city?"_

 _"You never struck me as a spa and massage girl, Beckett."_

 _"I'm not. Now I'll never have to be."_

Never. Castle always paid attention to words and it had struck him then, her use of _that_ word.

It spoke volumes so early in their relationship. She who could never verbalize her love as easily as he did, let it slip that he wasn't the only one who saw the two of them as something that would last.

Castle's eyes roamed her body. There was a bruise on her hips, and another one underneath her right shoulder. Then there was the scar across her abdomen from her most recent bullet wound. He'd only seen it once before, just before she walked out of their marriage. It had been a raw, angry mess then. It still didn't look great; darker and more prominent than he'd expect after two months, and the thought that it might be another permanent mark on her gorgeous body tore at his heart.

"Is that healing okay?" he questioned as he inched two of his fingers over it, barely skimming it over the flow of water.

Kate opened her eyes in response to his touch, water ran down her face and cut across her cheekbones. "It's fine."

Except it wasn't and she wasn't fine either. But now wasn't the time.

Castle deftly manoeuvred himself behind her and took what was left of the shampoo in his hand and ran it through her hair, using both hands to rub it into a soapy lather, making it easier to untangle the many knots.

"It's okay. I can do this."

"No. Let me. Want to." He did want to do it. Because he loved the feel of her long hair between his fingers and because he wanted to reclaim a fraction of the intimacy that used to come so naturally between them. Maybe even reclaim her in the process.

He tried to work through the tangles quickly but the dirt matting them was hard and congealed and it took some time. Castle wasn't done when she turned around and stepped closer into him. Pressing her body against his.

"Not yet, Kate..." Her breasts, now pressed against him, were making it harder and harder to rein in his urges. His traitorous body was already betraying him and letting her know how much he wanted her.

 _Screw it,_ he thought wryly. _She's my wife and she's well aware of the effect she has on me. She used to like it. A lot._

"Want you too," she admitted out of nowhere. "You have no idea." Kate pushed herself up on the balls of her feet to match his height, and her lips were on his before he could react. A quick, wet and possessive kiss that let her know she meant it. "I love you so, so much. No matter what happens. You have to know that."

Her dark eyes were red and swollen and he wondered if she'd been crying. Here, in the shower, where she could easily hide it.

 _"No matter what happens-"_

Her words gave him goose bumps, in spite of the steam and the hot water that engulfed them.

Kate turned around again, and he pulled her body back into his. As if he'd let anything else happen to her.

Castle kissed the nape of her neck and marked a slick spot with his teeth, before running his hands back into her hair, massaging her scalp. Judging from the way she leaned her head back into the nook between his jaw and shoulder and the moan of pleasure that he heard through the noise of the running water, she was enjoying it. So he continued until he saw her legs start to shake with fatigue.

He turned off the water, wrapped his hands around her waist and made her sit down on the rim of the tub. Ignoring that he was dripping all over the bathroom floor; he grabbed a towel and handed it to her after stepping out of the shower and towelling himself off too.

Then he walked down the hallway to grab them both something to sleep in. Pyjamas for him, one of his t-shirts for her. He should have thought of this before stepping into the shower.

"Richard?"

The voice and the head that peeked from one of the bedrooms startled him. It shouldn't have. _Of course_ he'd run into his mother when leaving the bathroom with nothing but a towel on.

"Are you back from the hospital? Is Katherine-?"

"She's here. She'll be okay."

Martha's face softened. "Oh Richard, I'm so glad."

"We both could use some sleep though and make sure you keep the drapes closed."

His mother waved her arms in the air. "I'll do my best not to disturb the peace."

"Don't leave the house without police protection."

This time she made a face. "We're going to have to have a talk about all that. But first get some sleep. You do look like you need it."

"Thanks," he grumbled.

Kate was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, next to the toilet when he got back. She'd lifted up the cover.

"You okay?"

"Thought I was going to be sick but..." She closed the lid of the toilet, and leaned back against the wall. "I'm okay. Think it's all the drugs. I feel weird."

"I think you need to put something in you before you can throw up. "

She winced at the thought. "Not yet."

Castle held out his hand, helped her up to sit on the toilet seat. Handed her the t-shirt and a pair of panties. "Let's go to bed."

"You sure you me to throw up all over your 500-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets?"

"You're fast," he grinned. "I have faith you'll make it out of our expensive sheets in time."

She gave him a half-hearted smile. "You and all your misplaced faith in me."

"Not misplaced," he assured her. Truth was he didn't care what she did as long as she was back sleeping in his fancy bed sheets. He opened the cabinet above the faucet and grabbed a tube of antibiotic ointment. Squeezed some out on his index finger. "The cut on your temple...it's bleeding again," he explained before he kneeled down and dabbed it on the side of her head. Then he searched for a band-aid in the cabinet and gently pressed it on top.

"Castle-", she groaned.

"Sorry."

"No, not that." She brushed his hand away from her temple. "Can you just stop fussing?"

Castle swallowed. That stung.

"You almost died last night," he reminded her. He could hear the iciness creeping into his voice. "Indulge me." She could be so blunt sometimes. He knew her well enough to know she didn't mean it. Knew she was cranky because she felt like shit. Still.

Her eyes darkened. Full of remorse. "I didn't mean it."

Castle didn't care. He grabbed her hair dryer from underneath the sink. Handed it to her. If Beckett didn't want fussing he was capable of no-fussing.

She took it from him, wordlessly. Sat on the floor with it in her lap and stared up at him for a long moment.

"Rick-" Tears started falling down her face.

 _Oh, Kate._

No one else but his wife had the ability to cut him deep with a handful of words and then simultaneously break his heart with a single glance.

"Help me?"

As if she ever had to ask.

Rick kneeled down next to her, took the hair dryer from her lap and plugged it into the nearest outlet. Brushed an errant tear from her cheek with his thumb and fought back the urge to pull her into his arms.

Instead, he scooted in behind her, grabbed a thick, round brush from a wicker basket at the foot of the sink, and focused all his concentration on unknotting the tangles in her long hair with minimal damage. Occasionally he used his thick fingers to help the process along. It was a slow, tedious labour of love. But he was good at it.

It might be the first time he was doing this for his stubbornly independent wife, but having a daughter with long hair had given him ample opportunity to hone this particular skill.

When the very last tangle was undone, Castle smoothly ran his fingers through her locks and turned on the hair dryer, pleased with the result of his efforts.

"Castle?" Her voice was a whisper underneath the hum of the dryer and Kate was leaning heavily into him now.

"Yeah?"

"Can't stay awake."

He held up the dryer with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Lowering his head until her wet, clean hair brushed against his lips. "It's okay. Don't have to. I've got you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

 _Castle residence, NYC_

Kate Beckett panicked when woke up and in response her heart raced and her lungs fought to get air. It was all because her eyes scanned the room and she couldn't make out where she was. Her jumbled brain didn't make the connection fast enough.

Using her elbows she pushed herself up, half sitting by the time her eyes adjusted to the darkness and the realization dawned on her. The familiar space, the soft sheets against her skin and the comforting sound of his breathing.

Kate turned to her side, her panic subsiding when she saw the outline of her sleeping husband.

 _Home._ She was home.

Kate sank back into her pillow and exhaled. Took several deep breaths until the dread was gone and her fingers let go of the fabric that she'd unknowingly fisted into the palms of her hand. Trembling when she trailed them over the sheets instead.

She'd forgotten how soft they were. How amazing it was to sleep on this extravagantly expensive mattress. It was just one more thing she'd taken for granted after a month and a half of living at a cheap, furnished apartment in Queens. The little luxuries that life with Richard Castle had spoiled her with.

She still felt terrible, head pounding and stomach in knots, and probably still had a death sentence hanging over her, but all of it was infinitely more bearable here, in this room, between these silky sheets, next to this man that she'd do anything for. Who somehow found it in his heart to keep loving her, no matter how terrible she was at doing right by them.

Kate couldn't exactly remember how she got into their queen-size bed.

She vaguely remembered sitting on the bathroom floor one moment and then looking up at Castle from the bed, his strong arms slipping out from underneath her and then straightening them at her sides while his very blue eyes stared down at her.

 _"Castle?"_

 _"Hmm..?"_ His breathing had been heavy, as though he just ran a marathon. Or carried his wife into bed.

 _"Phone?"_

 _"Phone?"_ He didn't understand her and in hindsight she didn't blame him. She'd been so out of it last night.

 _"The burner phone...need to call..."_

 _"My phone's on the bedside table, Kate. You know the code. Use that for now."_

And that was the last night thing she remembered because she simply could _not_ keep her eyes open. Normally she could power through a couple of nights without sleep, but maybe not when combined with a concussion and a near lethal dose of heroin.

"Shit!" she gasped out loud.

Vikram.

If LockSat had tried to kill her because they'd somehow become aware of what they'd uncovered this week, then Vikram's life was in danger too. She had to warn him.

It's why she so desperately needed to make a call. It was all coming back to her.

 _"...on the bedside table, Kate."_

Beckett turned on her side and scanned the table in the darkness, unable to see it. Groped for it blindly with her hand before reluctantly turning on the light. It blinded her until her eyes adjusted to the brightness.

She saw a note there, folded over a banana, next to a tall glass of water. "Eat Me" was what it said in Castle's handwriting and it made her smile, in spite of her panic.

 _You're a good man, Richard Castle. Dirty mind and huge heart. My favourite combination._

Beckett spied his phone and grabbed it along with the banana after getting out of the bed. She was starving and maybe some food would help her stomach.

Not wanting to wake Castle, she tip-toed out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her before dialling Vikram's number. She had to think about the number because she was so used to having it programmed into her phone.

It rang a few times and then went to voicemail. Brought her panic back.

She called him a second time. Voicemail again.

Her eyes saw the time on the phone. 2:17am.

 _Just because someone isn't picking up their phone in the middle of the night doesn't mean they're dead,_ she tried to reason. _Calm down. Eat the banana and try again._

Kate leaned against the wall of the hallway and peeled it, too tired to make the trek to the couch, even after her hours of sleep. She'd eat it right here and then and then try and reach Vikram again.

With that plan in mind, she sat down to the floor and started eating.

Only seconds later she spotted Martha Rodgers coming down the stairs.

The older woman was about to head into the kitchen but then turned the other direction when she spied Kate sitting on the floor of the study. A dramatic am-I-dreaming expression on her face.

"Katherine?"

Kate looked up at her. "Hi Martha."

Martha touched her cheek. "So I'm not dreaming. My daughter-in-law really is sitting on the floor eating a banana at two in the morning."

Beckett forced herself to get up. "Yeah." She didn't question what Martha was doing up at this hour. Rick's mother kept a haphazard schedule. Sometimes watching old films all night long and not getting up before noon and other times excusing herself at eight o'clock at night only to get up at the crack of dawn for a morning yoga class. Kate envied it at times; her free spirited life.

"Oh kiddo." Martha's outstretched arms pulled her into an embrace. "I'm not even going to ask. I'm just glad you're here and you're okay." She paused as if reconsidering. "You are alright, aren't you?"

"Yes," Kate let herself sink into the warmth of her hug. Held on tight and pretended for a moment that is was her own mother's arms that were wrapped around her. "I'm okay."

"You scared us last night."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh stop it," Martha waved her off. "You're here." She chuckled. "Eating a banana on the floor at two in the morning. It's all good, Katherine."

"Thanks."

"I don't think my son could have handled the alternative, you know. A world where you're not alright," she added, her expressive face suddenly serious. "You are aware of that, aren't you?"

Kate nodded, her eyes suddenly threatening to fill with tears again. All the drugs in her system were seriously messing with her emotions. But this time she held them back.

"You and I," Martha added. "Are going to have a long chat over a good cup of tea in the very near future but right now-" She inclined her head towards the staircase. "My bladder has more urgent needs before I grab a glass of wine and head back upstairs."

"Understood."

Kate let go of her and sat back down on the floor to finish the rest of the fruit when she saw Martha come back out of the kitchen.

"Good night, darling," the older woman mumbled as she walked away.

Beckett dialled Vikram's number again. Still no answer. Her stomach clenched with dread. She could reason that he was asleep and hadn't heard the phone ring the first time, but not that he'd turned it off altogether. She'd taught him better than that these last two months.

Kate Beckett had done her damndest to hone his survival skills, in order to make sure they got through this thing together.

Or at least she thought she did.

She checked the time on Castle's phone once more. Ten minutes. She'd give him another ten minutes. If Vikram didn't pick up, she'd get dressed and track him down.

Eight minutes later, Kate pressed a flat palm against her queasy stomach, certain of only one thing: that banana was _not_ going to stay down.

She left the phone on the floor and pushed herself back onto her feet, making a mad dash for the bathroom.

Castle was right about her being fast, because she made it just in time. Whipping up the toilet seat cover and falling to her knees before her stomach violently rejected every morsel of food she'd put it in less than fifteen minutes ago.

When she was done she flushed the toilet, put the cover back down and rested against the tiled wall, because it felt so nice and cool. And she needed a minute to muster the energy to get up and brush her teeth.

"Woah!"

Out of nowhere the bathroom door opened and her husband stepped inside, turning on the light.

Kate winced when she looked up at him. The brightness amplified the pounding in her head. "Castle?"

He crouched down on the floor, put a hand on her forehead and winced along with her. "You poor thing."

"I followed your instructions. Bad idea."

"What?"

"The banana," she explained. "I ate the banana. Big mistake."

"Ah- I figured as much when I saw the peel lying next to the phone in the hallway. All those years working with you have honed my detective skills."

"Castle-why are you here?"

"Here? At home?"

"No. Here in the bathroom."

He moved his hand from her forehead to her cheek, probing it with the back of his hand. "You were gone from the bed...I thought maybe-" He didn't finish.

"Oh Castle," she sighed. She'd done this to them. Destroyed the trust he used to have in her. Two months ago he never would have feared that she'd leave him in the middle of the night without so much as a word of goodbye. Not anymore. "I'm-I'm here. But I'm feeling really gross right now." She gave him an affectionate push. "Let me freshen up. I'll join you back in bed."

He made no move to leave, instead his hand was back on her forehead. "You're hot."

"I don't have a fever, babe. Just the world's worst hangover. How the hell do people shoot themselves up with this crap willingly?"

"You do look kind of green," he agreed. "A pasty olive grey-green."

"Thanks."

"You know what this reminds me of?" There was just enough amusement playing in his eyes that it almost made her afraid to ask.

"What?"

"Remember that night at the Old Haunt when Ryan made some remark about him and Espo being able to drink you under the table and you told him he was deluded?"

"I remember you _kicking_ me under the table for saying it."

"Not for saying it. For deciding then and there that you had to _prove_ it. Thought for sure one of you would end up in the ER with alcohol poisoning. I always knew you were stupidly bullheaded, but _that_ night...that was a whole other level, Kate."

Beckett cringed. She did remember it. Not one of her finer moments. It had been the tail end of a tough, heartbreaking case. A 14-year old kid, shot in the head and left for dead by his own brother. They all desperately needed an outlet to help them forget it.

It was the only other time she could recall throwing up in this bathroom. Being Jim Beckett's kid meant she had a dangerously high tolerance for alcohol but she'd pushed it that night.

"Come on, you were kind of proud when I won that contest."

"I was so furious with you."

"Liar."

"Okay maybe a little." His lips curled into a smile. "Figured holding your hair back in front of the toilet was the least I could do in return."

"The next day at the precinct," Beckett smirked at the memory. "Remember when Espo kept making runs for the men's room? Pretending it was something he ate? We were all so hung over, it was awful."

"I remember Ryan wearing sunglasses inside the precinct all day."

Beckett chuckled. "When Gates asked him about it, he told her it was some exotic eye condition that doesn't even exist."

Castle's eyes creased into a smile. "I've missed this."

"Puking in the bathroom?"

"That, not so much. Reminiscing with my best friend, yes."

She leaned back into him and let him wrap his strong arms around her.

"Me too," she admitted. It was easy to forget sometimes. That he was so much more than her husband and lover. Partner. Confidante. Best friend. He was everything.

"Don't get me wrong," he added. "I miss other things too. Like making out with you. A lot. But I think I miss the rest just as much. Having you around, close enough to touch when I get the urge, which happens a lot, by the way. I miss bouncing ideas off you. Seeing your face first thing in the morning when I wake up. The way you look at me when I bring you a cup of coffee, god, you have no idea how much I've missed that."

Kate squeezed his thigh, grateful that her back was to him and her couldn't see her face. "Don't make me cry."

She shivered, in spite of his warmth around her, cold all of a sudden, her stomach in worse knots than before.

"Where does it hurt?" he whispered the question into her ear after she pulled up her knees. His hand inched underneath the oversized t-shirt of his that she wearing and he pressed a flat, warm palm against her stomach. Like most of what he did for her, it felt good. Was exactly what she needed even though she had no idea how he knew that.

"Everywhere."

"I know I'm the writer but you think you can be a bit more specific so I can help make it better?" He kissed the top of her head.

"You are," she told him. "You make everything better."

"Now who's lying?" He kissed her again, lower this time, near the nape of her neck, while the warmth of his palm continued working its magic on her abdomen. "Mostly I drive you crazy."

"That too."

"If one day we have a kid, I think we should name her Olive."

"Olive?" Where did that come from?" Kate turned around to look up at him. "Because I look olive-grey-green?"

He was massaging her stomach. Maybe that's what prompted talk of children.

Children. If the notion of living long enough to see the end of the month felt ambitious right now, then the idea of having children was the ultimate pipe dream. Nothing could be further from her mind.

"Well that too, but the book I'm reading right now; the main character's this hard-boiled PI and he finds out he has a daughter he didn't know about. She's this feisty, bull-headed, stubborn five-year old named Olive. Dark hair and dark eyes and completely unrelenting. Doesn't let up when she wants something."

"She sounds like a handful."

"She reminds me of you. Plus, it's a cool name."

"An olive is a vegetable. How about we compromise and make it Olivia? If we ever have a girl, that is."

"Technically, an olive is a fruit and I'm so sure if we have a kid it'll be a girl," he told her. "Olivia." His face was pensive and Kate eyed him incredulously. He really, truly was giving this topic of what to name their daughter serious thought, right here and now. In spite of everything that happened in the last two months.

 _My eternal optimist._

"I could be talked into Olivia," he conceded. "It's nice."

"Good. Because you're not talking me into Olive."

When Castle sensed that she felt better (and she had no idea how he knew, but he did) he made his way back onto his feet and held out his hand to her. "Come on. Sit up for a sec."

She let him help her up until she was sitting on the toilet seat.

"Stay there," he told her before leaving the bathroom.

As if she was going to go anywhere in her state. But she did get up and brush her teeth, even though all she wanted was to crawl back into their bed. Hole up between his super soft sheets and maybe stay there for a month. Let the world and those who kept trying to poison the lives of others sort themselves out on their own for a change.

She was done. Spent.

It took a lot of effort to get up and squeeze some toothpaste onto her brush. Her electronic one was still there, where she'd left it two months ago. Kate hadn't bothered to take it with her when she left, deciding to buy a cheap replacement instead.

By the time Castle was back in the bathroom, she was done.

"Here," he handed her a glass of ginger ale. "Before you dehydrate on me."

She took it gratefully, not realizing how thirsty she was until he gave it to her.

"Take these too," he added, handing her a small plate of crackers.

Kate made a face. "No. Don't want to come back in here ten minutes later."

"The doc said you should try."

"I did," she pointed out. "Banana. See how that turned out."

"Since when does Kate Beckett give up after one try?"

"Since tonight."

"Three crackers." Castle insisted. "Surely my kickass wife can stomach three measly saltine crackers?"

She shook her head and drank some more ginger ale. "No, she can't."

"Yes."

"Rick-" she whined. "I don't want to argue with you."

"Then don't." He pushed the plate in her direction. "No fighting. Just three crackers. Then I'll tuck you into bed without another peep."

"As if- " She rolled her eyes and took one of the crackers. Reluctantly bit off half of it. " _As if_ you're capable of no peeping."

He chuckled. "Minimal peeping then."

She finished a cracker and took another one. The salt on her tongue was unexpectedly delicious. It reminded her once again how hungry she was. She ate a third and then a fourth without any prompting.

"Well look at that-"

" _That_ was a peep."

"Oops." He made a zipping motion across his lips with his fingers and didn't say anything until she finished the last of the ginger ale.

"Want some more?"

"No."

"Bed?"

"Yes."

"I know you're tired when you're down to monosyllables." Castle set down the glass and plate. "Come on. Let's go. Don't make me carry you again because my back can't handle it."

Kate leaned into him and snaked her arm around his waist. Too tired for a comeback. She did feel better after the crackers. Why did he always have to be right?

Right and good for her. So good.

How in the world had she mustered the willpower to stay away from him for two months?

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"You awake?"

"Yeah." Half awake anyway, because she was well aware of them walking across the living room, listing into him because her eyes were threatening to close again. Darkness was looming heavily over her and she was losing the struggle to keep it at bay.

But then she spotted the phone she'd left on the floor and bent down to pick it up along with the banana peel. Beckett stopped. "Need to make a call," she told him.

Castle eased the peel from her hand and went to toss it out.

"Thanks," she mouthed.

She'd fall asleep if she tried driving to Vikram's place now. Instead she'd call the precinct and order one of the night shift uniforms to check on him. Castle was back at her side before she ended the call and she handed the phone back to him.

"Come on," he led her back into the bedroom. "You made it." There was a satisfied grin on his face after she fell into the bed. He kept his word, smoothed back the blanket, and tucked her in.

"Castle?"

"What is it?"

"I know I'm not always easy to love." She was more than half asleep now. A vulnerable state that often betrayed her. One where she was apt to let it slip how desperately she needed him.

"Tell me about it."

Truth was she was terrified that she might not live to see the end of the week. Wanted to spend every waking moment she had left by his side. Because he was the absolute best thing in her life.

Castle got into bed and snuggled up to her, as close as possible, and draped a lazy arm over her.

"Promise me you won't stop?"

He pulled her closer still and pressed a kiss on the back of her shoulders. "Won't stop. Promise."

* * *

 _Later_

It was the sound of his phone ringing that woke him up. It buzzed and vibrated on the bedside table next to his side of the bed.

He rubbed his eyes and grabbed it. Saw that Kate was still asleep next to him once his pupils focused. The blanket he'd tucked her in with was now halfway down the bed.

She never did like confinement of any sort.

The number for the 12th Precinct came up on the call display. So did the time. It was a couple of minutes past 6am.

Castle picked up the call. "Yeah?"

 _"Castle?"_ It was Javier Esposito on the other line. _"Is Beckett there with you?"_

Really? The precinct was calling her at six in the morning after she nearly died the night before? It made him clench his teeth. "She's sleeping."

 _"You need to wake her. This is urgent."_

"Excuse me?"

 _"Look, you know I wouldn't be saying this unless it was."_ There was a desperation in Esposito's voice that scared him.

"Javi, what is it?"

 _"Can't, bro. Need to talk to Beckett."_

"Okay, okay- " Castle turned around and saw that his conversation already woke her and Beckett was looking at him as though trying to make sense of what was going on. He forgot what a light sleeper she was.

Castle handed her his phone. "It's Espo."

 _"Jav?"_

Castle saw her expression change in seconds as she took in what he had to say. Watched as she moved a hand over her mouth in shock.

"Oh god...no!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

 _Castle residence, NYC  
_

Javier Esposito's voice echoed in her head.

 _"The unis you sent to check on Vikram ran into a hit and run on the way there. Didn't make it 'til around 4am. They found him dead in a pool of blood. Multiple stab wounds."_

"Oh my god, Javi." Guilt assaulted her. Why didn't she try harder to get a hold of him?

 _"Forensics is already there and Lanie just called me. You know what else they found at his place?"_

Kate swallowed. "I have an idea."

 _"Your prints,"_ Esposito spit out. _"Not just your prints, Beckett. But your stuff...all over the place."_

She could hear the disdain and the disappointment in his voice. Espo no doubt made the first logical conclusion and it wasn't pretty. He might have sided with her whenever she had a disagreement with Castle, but he was still friends with her husband. The thought that she might have cheated on him didn't sit well with Espo.

"It's not what you think, Jav." She could barely choke out the words.

 _"Doesn't matter what I think. One of our own was murdered in an apartment that our Captain was obviously living in. Talk about messed up. "_

"I'm coming down."

 _"To the precinct? Good idea."_

"No. The crime scene."

 _"Have you lost your mind? You do that and IA will have a field day with you. "_

"I'm familiar with that apartment, Javi. I might catch something that another detective could miss." It was the least she could do for Vikram since she couldn't keep him safe.

 _"Bad idea."_

"My decision, not yours," she told him. "Tell forensics not to clear anything until I get there." She ended the call without giving him a chance to say anything else.

"Kate?" Castle was sitting up in bed, staring at her. How much had he pieced together from her conversation. "You okay?"

"No."

An image of Vikram lying in a pool of his own blood had already settled in her mind. Made her feel sick. It wasn't supposed to end like this. For two months she'd tried to train him to the best of her abilities. Tried to teach how to stay alive in every possible scenario. But it wasn't enough. She hadn't been there when it counted.

"Kate?" Rick's voice cut through the fog in her brain.

"Vikram's dead," she told him.

"Who's Vikram?" Castle concentrated on her face and she saw that it suddenly dawned on him. "Wait isn't that the guy from the AG's office. The one who called you two months ago. The guy that got you involved in that crazy LockSat mess."

"Yeah."

"I remember Ryan telling me you hired him to work in IT at the 12th."

"I did." She didn't have time for this conversation and all the explanations it would demand.

She needed to get dressed, get to Vikram's apartment and see if there was anything there that could help bring these bastards to justice.

"It's all connected isn't it? " Castle went on. "It all happened two months ago. Vikram getting hired, you leaving me. The men who kidnapped you yesterday...are they connected to Vikram's murder?"

Kate didn't answer him. The less he knew the better. She stepped over to the dresser and took off her t-shirt. Put on a bra and a black turtleneck. Found a pair of jeans in the closet and quickly slipped into them. There was no time for a shower. She'd add a black blazer and wash her face before putting on some minimal make-up. Tie her messy hair into a bun.

"Kate, answer me," Castle got up as.

"Rick, it's better that-"

"That what?" He stepped right in front of her. Got into her face. "I'm left in the dark like a fool? That I sit at home and play board games and wait until I get another call from a hospital? Or maybe the morgue next time? I thought we were _partners_."

Kate tightened her lips. This was so unfair. All of it. Hurting him. Putting him in danger.

Castle glared at her. "What did you mean when you told Espo you're familiar with Vikram's apartment?"

Kate grabbed her holster from a drawer and fastened her Glock 19 into it. Still not answering. She couldn't do this. Not now.

What she had to do now was pull herself together enough to slip back into the role of Captain for the next few hours.

"Kate," Castle's hands grabbed her shoulders. "Don't you think you at least owe me an answer?"

"I was staying there the last two weeks," she said softly, making no move to shake off his grip because she didn't feel threatened. She knew he'd sooner die than lay a hand on the people he loved.

"You were staying at another man's apartment?" The hurt and anger were written all over his face and all she wanted was to soothe it away. Take him into her arms, kiss him so fiercely that he'd never again doubt her love. She wanted to take him back to bed and _show_ him how much he meant to her. That she would never-

"It's not what you think," she whispered.

He let go of her. Took a step back and recoiled, as if releasing something poisonous.

"I don't know what to think anymore. Two months ago I'd have staked my life on you not walking out on our marriage. Now I don't know what to believe."

"I'd never do that to you." He was the one who was unwilling to answer now and she was the one who stepped back into his space and grabbed his shoulders. Forced him to turn around. "You _know_ that."

He eased out of her grip and gingerly sat down on the rim of the bed. "I'm not sure I know you anymore."

That hurt but she couldn't blame him. God knows how furious she'd be if the tables were turned.

"Kate." He tightened his lips in a thin, unforgiving line. "You go and do what you have to do. But when you come home tonight, you're going to tell me the truth. The whole truth."

"Me being here. It's not safe for you or your family," she tried to reason. If he wasn't going to believe her at least she hoped he might believe that. But she couldn't read much of anything beyond anger on his face.

"If you don't come home tonight and be honest with me, then don't-" He paused, as if pondering whether to finish. Then deciding with a single bitter glance in her direction. "Then don't come back, Kate. At all."

* * *

 _Vikram Singh's apartment, Brooklyn_

The apartment was swarming with people by the time she got there. Uniforms, forensics and a very familiar ME.

And crowd aside, the place was a mess.

A half-empty Styrofoam container of Chinese take-out was scattered on the floor and the smell of the rotting food mingled with the odour of the dead body. A floor lamp was lying on its side and a bottle of beer was nestled in a crevice of the sofa; its spilled contents leaving behind a giant stain on the cushions.

Lanie Parrish ceased what she was doing the moment she saw Beckett enter the room. Got up to greet her and stopped just short of pulling her into a hug. Kate knew her friend would have done it if they were anywhere but here, at a murder scene.

"Girlfriend, do you know how many times I tried calling you yesterday after Javi told me what happened?"

Lanie was one more person Kate had shut out of her life the last two months and that made her feel guilty too.

But not nearly as guilty as she felt for being unable to stop the brutal murder that took place here.

 _We were supposed to come out of this together, Vikram._

"I lost my phone," Kate explained.

"You lost your phone for two months?"

Kate bit her lip. Lanie had been texting and calling ever since Beckett walked out on her marriage. Had been wanting to get together and find out what the hell was wrong. But most of them went unanswered.

It's not as though Lanie needed daily contact from her best friend, as if they'd even be friends if she did, but Kate was aware that she was stretching Lanie's patience. There was only so much you could alienate someone before they stopped caring.

"No," she admitted. Apologizing wasn't her strong suit. But she was good at owning up to her mistakes.

Lanie nodded, accepting her half apology and for a second Kate saw remorse on her friend's face too. For chewing her out the minute she stepped into the crime scene. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Because you don't look so great. Too white even for a white girl."

Kate exhaled. She couldn't do this right now. Couldn't humour Lanie's concern and let her think that she wasn't fit to be here. Even if it made her a lousy friend.

She ignored the question, crouched down and focused on Vikram's body instead. No matter how many dead bodies she'd seen, nothing would ever make her immune to seeing the dead body of someone she knew well. Someone she considered a friend. "Tell me, what do we know?"

Lanie's glare told her she wasn't impressed with the way Kate had brushed her off. "Okay, _Captain._ Given the state of the body I'd place the time of death over twenty-four hours ago. My guess would be closer to thirty to thirty-eight hours ago. But I can't verify that until I perform the autopsy."

 _Same time I was knocked out and dragged into that van. We were supposed to die at the same time._

"Cause of death?"

"At first glance I'd say the multiple stab wounds to the chest are a really good bet," Lanie shot back. "But I'll know more once I do a full autopsy. Given the mess around him, it suggests there was a struggle. I found some fibres under his finger nails. Clothing maybe."

 _He would have fought back,_ Kate thought. _I taught him enough that he'd be able to fight back._

Beckett looked up at Lanie. "Do we have the murder weapon?"

"No," the medical examiner told her. "Not yet. But they sure as hell found a lot of other things that I didn't expect them to find here."

Leave it to Lanie to cut to the chase. Beckett figured she'd do same. "My prints, my clothes- I know. I've been staying here the last two weeks."

Judgment loomed heavy in Lanie's gaze.

Kate was surprised that her friend didn't flat out ask how she could do this to Castle.

"Not in his bedroom," Kate added before Lanie had the chance. "You won't find my prints in there. We were working on a case together. That's all."

"An after-hours case?" Lanie questioned. "One that you couldn't work on at the precinct? One that required you to sleep in his apartment?"

Beckett felt her cheeks flush. "That's right."

Kate stood back up too quickly and it made her dizzy. Made the room swirl around her. She closed her eyes for a sec and waited until it passed.

Lanie didn't notice. But Javier Esposito who walked through the door the moment she stood up, did. "You really think it's a good idea for you to be here, Captain?"

"Last I checked I don't have to get clearance from my detectives before heading to a crime scene."

Beckett caught the silent ' _woah_ ' that came from Lanie's lips.

"No, you don't, Captain," Esposito answered. "But I thought you might have enough common sense not to go to the one that's covered in your prints. Or to stay home after being released from the hospital less than a day ago. Guess I was wrong."

Beckett saw a uniformed officer following their exchange from a feet away. She needed to put a stop to this. Before it got out of hand.

"Detective," she hissed. "Can we step aside and have a word?"

Esposito's irritation was written all over him. "Yes, ma'am."

"Cut the 'yes, ma'am' bullshit, Jav," Beckett glared at him. "How about you give me some actual respect instead before you jump to all sorts of misguided conclusions. Before every officer in the precinct starts to think that this kind of insubordination is acceptable."

"What am I supposed to think, Beckett?"

"You're supposed to know me better than this," she told him. "To believe me when I tell you that the only reason my prints are here is because we were working on a case together. To understand that I'm here precisely because I _am_ familiar with this place and might be able to spot something that you or Ryan could miss."

She watched his anger deflate as he took a deep breath.

"I don't know what to think anymore where you're concerned. I see you fighting with Castle at the precinct, walking out of your marriage with no explanation, then yesterday a homeless guy finds you shot up with heroin in an alley. These last two months, I don't even recognize you anymore. Doesn't seem like anyone does. Today I find out you've been living with our IT tech. What the hell am I supposed to think? If _I_ did all that...what would _you_ think?"

"I don't know," she admitted. Resigned. Esposito was right. Right to be pissed and frustrated and puzzled with her. Just like Castle and everyone else.

"But-" She could really use someone on her side right about now and she thought that someone might be the man who'd been her work partner for over eight years. Someone who might realize that her recent, questionable choices hadn't changed who she was.

But she wasn't going to beg for Espo's loyalty. "You believe whatever you want, Javi."

Exasperation lined his face, but he didn't say anything. He was no more likely to plead for her honesty than she was for his friendship. They were both too proud and stubborn.

"Have we run the place for prints yet?" Beckett wasn't hopeful they'd get any that would prove useful. These guys were too good for that.

"We're on it. So far we've only got one other set aside from yours and Vikram's. Looks like he didn't have a lot of visitors. Besides you."

Beckett ignored that last jab. "He had a room mate, until three weeks ago." She tried to recall his name. "It was Polish. "Jason...Gran...no, Grabowski."

Espo wrote it down. "Possible suspect?"

 _No._

"I think he moved to Michigan. But follow up on it."

"Will do."

"Have we found a lap top?" Beckett asked him. Vikram's personal lap top would have been near him, it always was, probably on the sofa. In addition to the two desk tops he had here and the two at the precinct, his personal lap top was his baby. Keeper of all his secrets and all his favourite video games.

"No laptop," Espo told her. "Techs are coming by to start looking at the desk tops in the next hour."

Kate was sure they wouldn't find anything. That the hard drives would have been wiped clean right after they killed him.

Her eyes kept going back to Vikram's body. It was easy to envision what happened. He'd been having dinner on the couch, take out and a beer, when they stormed in, with guns pointed at him. _But why not shoot him? Why kidnap her and stab him? Why make it complicated and messy if it didn't need to be?_

Beckett suspected that Vikram didn't have his gun on him when the assailants entered. (She was certain it was more than one. Just as it had been four men who'd attacked her in the parking garage) He often didn't, in spite of all her lectures. The only time he would have tried to fight back is once he saw the knife. Once he realized how they intended to kill him. Then he would have fought in spite of the guns pointed at him.

Goosebumps ran along her arms when Kate thought of his last few moments. How terrified he must have been. Made her shiver.

She'd snuck in on him last week, to test his preparedness and Vikram had failed miserably.

 _"Why isn't your gun on you?"_ she'd scolded him.

 _"I'm having dinner!"_

 _"What the hell kind of excuse is that?"_

Vikram Singh wasn't a cop. He was a self-professed computer nerd who didn't particularly like guns. Or fist fights. He truly did join the AG because he thought chicks would dig it. Not because he saw himself as a noble defender of justice.

Even though he was braver than most people she knew.

 _"I'm gonna end up shooting myself in the foot with this,"_ he joked a few weeks ago when she'd reminded how to clean his semi-automatic. Something he should have known already. _"I know you mean well...but if these guys are as good as we think they are, no matter how many target practices and Thai kick-boxing classes you make me go to...I don't stand a chance, Beckett. I'm not good at this stuff like you are. Don't think I even want to be."_

 _"Then you shouldn't be doing this."_

He'd laughed. _"You gonna hack into Locksat's empire yourself, Beckett? Take some computer classes? Yeah, I didn't think so. You're as good at hacking as I am with a gun."_

She so desperately wanted him to stand a chance. The nerd who believed he owed it to his former colleagues to track down the bastards who cut their lives short. He was soft spoken and funny and he hated spicy food. _("You're more Indian than me, Beckett. Hell, you've even been there and I saw you eating my mother's vindaloo leftovers that I only brought home the other day to appease her. I think that dish is her way of trying to spice me to death for not giving her a grandchild.")._

Vikram could have run and gone into hiding. But he didn't. He stood his ground even though he wasn't a fighter. And that made him a hero in her books.

Beckett crouched back down, took out a pair of gloves and gently closed his eyelids. Closed her own in a moment of silence for him. She'd hoped that someone else might've given him that dignity earlier. But crime scenes were about evidence, not dignity. Judging from the look on Lanie's face, she was straddling the border of messing with that evidence.

 _I won't let them get away with this. Promise._

When she stood back up the room tilted again and Beckett almost lost her balance when she felt Esposito's hand grip her arm. Steadying her.

"You really shouldn't be here, Beckett. Go home." He didn't sound unkind or condescending. In spite of Esposito's doubts, this was her friend talking. Looking out for her. "I'll contact you the second we get a lead. Get a phone ASAP and give me your new number."

"Okay," she conceded. No matter how much she wanted to go home and slide back into Castle's expensive bed sheets, she needed to go to the precinct. Needed to be there to track the leads to this case the moment they came in. She'd eat something on the way there. Maybe a coffee and a bagel. Come to think of it, she was dying for a coffee. Even a stale, percolated cup of pre-Castle 12th precinct coffee. She was certain it would put a dent in her headache.

Beckett did a final walk through the apartment and told a member of the forensics team to e-mail her the crime scene photos. Esposito was right about one other thing. She needed a phone because she felt handicapped and isolated without it.

She caught Esposito talking to the uniformed officer assigned to protect her. Juarez. No, Gutierrez. She couldn't remember.

Beckett cringed, annoyed with herself. She was usually sharper than this.

"Captain," the officer addressed. "You ready to head out?"

Beckett nodded. "Yes."

He barely looked older than twenty. Fresh out of the academy and undoubtedly ineffective against any sort of strike from LockSat. Assigning him to be her bodyguard only served to put one more innocent life in the line of fire.

If the Commissioner was going to insist on it, Beckett wished they'd assign him to Alexis or Martha instead. She was capable of facing the consequences of her choices herself.

Gutierrez.

That was his name. It came back to her once she was seated next to him in the police cruiser and they were driving across the Queensboro bridge back into Manhattan. Initially he'd opened the back door for her which prompted an "are-you-kidding-me?" look. It was bad enough to be lacking her own transportation; Beckett wasn't going to be driven around like royalty in the back seat while on the job.

Gutierrez's phone rang after they crossed the East River and two words into the call, he promptly handed his cell phone over to her. "It's for you, Captain."

She took it and heard a very familiar voice saying her name on the other end. _"Captain Beckett."_

"Deputy Chief Gates."

 _"I need to see you. In my office. Now."_

There was barely concealed fury in Iron Gates' voice. It was ironic. Even now that she'd climbed the ranks, her old boss was still reminding her who was in charge.

"Yes, sir."

And that was the end of their conversation. No small talk.

"We need to head to One PP before going to the 12th," she told Gutierrez.

"Detective Esposito- he, uh, gave me orders to take you home."

"So you've decided to follow the orders of a detective and ignore those of your captain?"

Gutierrez gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "No, Ma'am. It's just that he was very..."

"Do you really want to spend the next two years writing traffic tickets?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then I suggest you head towards One Police Plaza."

"Yes, ma'am."

"On second thought, before you do that, make a pit stop at the first coffee shop you see."

It wasn't just a craving anymore. Facing the wrath of Gates was going to require caffeine.

* * *

 _Castle Private Investigations, NYC_

"Hey, pumpkin." Castle stepped into his office and greeting his daughter who was sitting at his desk.

"Pumpkin? Don't you think I'm too old for that?"

Castle's eyes creased into a smile. "Never."

Alexis looked up at him before she stood up, as if suddenly deciding he needed a hug.

Alexis didn't say anything when she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around him, waiting a long moment before letting go and eyeing him with a cautious look. "You okay, Dad?"

"Yeah."

Her blue eyes, _his eyes,_ let him know that she didn't buy it. "Shouldn't you be at home with Beckett? I told you, I can handle this case alone, Dad. It'll take me a while to figure out how to set up surveillance on this guy's wife."

"Let me help you." Castle nudged her back towards the desk. He could easily pull up another chair and they could work at the same desk together. It was big enough.

"Dad," Alexis pushed back a strand of her hair and blocked him from moving towards the desk. "Why aren't you home with Beckett?"

Castle exhaled. As if she'd let him dive into work, in an attempt to tame his racing thoughts. He leaned against his desk. "Because Beckett isn't home either."

Alexis was stunned. "She left?"

"She went to crime scene. A member of the precinct was stabbed to death." Castle swallowed. Anger still churned in his gut. _A member of the precinct that Kate happened to be living with for the last two weeks._

"That's terrible. But is she ready to go back to work?"

"Course not."

A rueful expression lined his daughter's face. "Is that why you're upset?"

A lopsided smile lifted his lips. He longed for the days when that was all they argued about; Beckett's bullheadedness. "No-not that. Kate's tough. She can handle it."

"Then what, Dad?"

"I'm upset because she lied to me," he admitted. This was really why he'd come here. Not to find some work to bury himself in, but because all of it was eating him up and he desperately needed someone to talk to. Anyone but his mother. "About a lot of things."

"So she's not coming back?"

"I told her not to bother coming home unless she's ready to be honest."

Alexis got up to be at his side. Leaning against the desk table just as he was.

"Did you mean it?"

"No." He so desperately wanted to call Kate and tell her that. Anything to ease the weight in his chest. It was getting so heavy that it was almost hard to breathe.

Alexis rested her head on his bicep. "She'll come home. She loves you too much not to."

"She's not well and there are people out there who want her _dead_. So what do I do? I put conditions on how she can come home because all I can think about is my wounded pride and how angry I am. What the hell does that even matter right now?"

"Dad. _Call her_."

"She doesn't have a phone."

Alexis sighed. "Then call Esposito or Ryan. One of them is bound to be at the crime scene with her."

Alexis was right. If he really wanted to get a hold of her, there were other ways. This was 2015 after all. "Okay." The weight eased a little. This was why he was here. Because, like Beckett, his daughter was capable of rational thought when under duress. Her imagination didn't immediately soar off to far-fetched worst- case scenarios like his did.

Granted, he usually kept a clear head too. Except when it came to matters involving his wife.

"Call her," Alexis repeated gently.

Castle pulled out his cell phone and dialled Esposito's number.

* * *

 _One Police Plaza, NYC_

The coffee shop stop was a bad idea.

While the double-shot vanilla latte might have eased her headache and tasted heavenly, it wasn't agreeing with her stomach. Nothing did at the moment.

While waiting for Gates outside the Deputy's Chief's office, Beckett debated whether to risk throwing up in her office or to make a run for the nearest washroom.

A glance through the glass window of her office told Beckett that Gates had just finished her conference call.

 _Shit._

Beckett gritted her teeth and fought back the nausea before she jumped up from the bench and dashed down the hallway, towards the restroom sign she'd spotted on the way in.

When she got out five minutes later, she felt worse than she did on the way in. Gates stood in the doorway of her office, hands on her hips, and gave her a look that said she wasn't impressed.

Beckett offered a curt nod and stepped into the office. She wanted to sit down, but she knew the rules well enough to know that would be a rude and presumptuous move. She'd do so only if Gates offered. Or sat down at her desk first.

Gates did neither. "You look awful, Captain."

She mustered a smile. "If you need an officer to go to high schools and talk to kids about staying away from drugs, let me know."

Gates shook her head in disdain. "Do you think this is funny?"

Clearly the light-headedness was affecting her judgment. "No, sir."

"Is it true?"

"What?"

"That someone tried to kill you by injecting you with a lethal dose of heroin?"

Beckett nodded, not wanting to go back to that night so soon. She needed to push it aside, compartmentalize it all, until she had the luxury of dealing with it. "Yes."

"Do you believe your life is still in danger from these people?"

"I think it's a fair assumption given that they didn't succeed."

"Detectives Esposito and Ryan seem to believe that this threat extends to Richard Castle and his family, therefore requiring the protective services of this force. Would you agree with that assessment, Captain?"

"I would, yes, sir."

Gates crossed her arms and started pacing in the tiny space between her desk and where Beckett stood. "That would lead me to conclude that you lied to Detective Esposito about not knowing who tried to kill you."

"It's a logical assumption, that's all. That whoever it is might try and harm the people I care about."

Gates smiled icily. "Captain, if you want me continue respecting you, I'd appreciate it if you stopped insulting my intelligence."

"Do I have my suspicions, yes," Beckett confessed. "Do I know who did it? No. Of course not."

"This morning a member of your precinct was found stabbed to death."

"Vikram Singh. He was our Lead IT tech at the 12th."

"Forensics tells me that they found your things at his apartment. Not just prints, but clothes and belongings."

An uncomfortable heat crept up in her throat. She never envisioned having to explain all this to anyone but her husband. "It's not what you think."

Victoria Gates furrowed her brows. "You know, Beckett, I don't care what my officers do after work. Who they sleep with and what activities they engage in, as long as it is legal and consensual."

Beckett swallowed as Gates took a step towards her.

"But what I do care about is whether or not my captains are capable of commanding the respect of the officers that report to them. Because once that respect is gone, we have a case of the inmates running the prison."

"Sir, I don't- "

"I'm not done," Gates cut her off. "If your officers think you're sleeping around with their colleagues we have a problem. A _respect_ problem."

"I can't control what they think. Or what they choose to believe."

"But you can control your actions."

Beckett bit her tongue this time.

"You know what you're going to do, Captain?"

Beckett had a feeling Gates was going to tell her.

"The next time you step in that precinct you're going to call a meeting where you face your officers and you make up something plausible. I don't care if you have to tell them you and Mr. Singh were in that apartment together due to an off-the-books investigation sanctioned by IA, if that's what it takes."

"Yes, sir." The first bit _was_ partly true. The off-the-books part.

"Meanwhile you're going to tell _me_ the truth," Gates added with a glare that it made it clear that anything less was unacceptable.

"We were investigating a case together."

"A case?" Gates questioned. "Then why wasn't it investigated at the precinct?"

"Not in that sense. It was...personal."

Gates stopped dead in her pacing tracks. "Why am I not surprised? Is this related to your mother's murder?"

"It's- related to Senator Bracken and to the murders of my former AG colleagues. Bracken was connected to them," Beckett told her. "He was involved in something much bigger than I originally believed."

"It's why Vikram Singh was involved in this isn't it?" Gates pieced together. "He came from the AG's office to the 12th around two months ago. Are you telling me that his murder and your kidnapped two nights ago are connected?"

Beneath her formidable exterior, was one of the sharpest minds she'd ever worked with. Beckett forgot that about Gates sometimes.

"Our investigation...it involved a lot of speculation. We didn't have enough evidence to justify using police resources and manpower to pursue it. Not yet."

"So you and Vikram spared our NYPD resources and decided to investigate it on your own?"

Beckett's cheeks burned. The hits from Gates kept coming. "Something like that."

"Clearly you did find something. Enough that made them feel threatened and come after you both." For the first time since she stepped into her office, Beckett also saw something else besides frustration and anger on Gates' face. Concern.

"Simply trying to investigate them was enough for them to feel threatened. It's why we wanted no one else involved. Including my husband."

"So what did you uncover?"

"We were tracing heroin shipments for nearly two weeks. Trying to match certain batches. Three days ago Vikram thought there might have been a breach in one of his computers. He..." Beckett shifted her weight from one foot to another. Her thoughts racing. She knew better than to try and keep fooling Gates, but at the same time she couldn't tell her everything either.

And she really needed to sit down.

"He what?"

"He ran all sorts of scans. The technical stuff he did on his computers, it was way over my head. But in the end he said it was fine. That maybe he'd just been paranoid."

Gates pursed her lips and Beckett could see her mind working. "Let me guess - his hard drives have been wiped?"

"We're not sure yet but it looks that way."

"Do you have access to any of the data on his computers?"

"No." That was the truth. Vikram has insisted on it. Insisted that he wouldn't be able to secure her laptop the same way he could secure the desktops at his apartment.

Gates exhaled. "Tell me what you found three days ago. What was so incriminating that someone decided it was worth the risk killing an NYPD captain, knowing the entire force would try and solve her murder if they succeeded."

Talk of her near death made her shiver. Sent goose bumps up along her arms and made her feel cold in spite of the wool turtleneck she wore. She'd come _so_ close. _Again._

"We found a link- to a group of individuals holding very powerful positions in our government."

"What group?"

Beckett tightened her lips. That was as much as she was willing to give away. For both their sakes.

"Captain?"

"The links we found- we couldn't verify them. I would tell you where they led if I thought we could use the information in an investigative capacity. But without Vikram's data, I have _nothing_. Me telling you we suspect half a dozen congressmen without a thread of evidence to back it up is pointless."

" _Are_ you suspecting half a dozen congressmen?"

"No," Beckett shook her head. Backtracking. "It was just an example."

"You do know that I could charge you for withholding evidence in your own attempted murder investigation."

Beckett raised her brows. Surely Gates was kidding? "I know Bracken was involved in a drug cartel that has a far greater reach than any of us could have imagined. I know it was connected to the murder of half a dozen AG agents, including my former partner, Rachel McCord."

"You're giving me speculations, Captain. Yet someone thought what you knew was worth killing for. That leads me to believe you're not telling me everything."

"Yeah...yeah they did think it was worth killing for," Beckett shot back. "Because this thing is so big and so entrenched in certain pockets of our government that they can't risk anyone even looking into it!"

Gates exhaled, pensive and frustrated all at once.

"Deputy Chief-"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if...if I sit down?"

Instantly, the concern was back on Gates' face. "Sit down, Kate."

Gates slid into the chair across from her and for a second her boss's face swam in her line of vision. Kate blinked twice and waited for it to pass.

"Kate?"

"It's why Vikram and I worked so hard to keep this between the two of us," she explained after her vision cleared. "It's why I left my husband. To keep him far away from this. Not because I was having an affair."

"I see."

For a moment she felt the familiar kinship with the woman who used to work with her at the 12th. Victoria Gates might not be someone she ever called a friend, the way she did Roy Montgomery. But the Gates she'd gotten to know was fair and just and Kate had nothing but respect for her.

"I can't protect you," Gates told her, elbows on her desk as she leaned forward. "Not if you can't, or won't, give me any evidence."

"I know," Beckett acknowledged.

"I can maybe find a way to justify keeping a protective detail on you and Castle and his family for a week. But beyond that..."

"I know," Beckett repeated. She was well aware of what was a justifiable expense and what wasn't. Her head was pounding again and she leaned forward, to grip the edge of her seat. Because it helped her focus. She felt bad for Gates then, because she had no doubts that her former boss would do whatever she could to keep her safe. Knew how frustrating it was to have her hands tied.

"What a mess," Gates mumbled.

Neither woman said anything until Gates reached into her drawer and pulled out a cell phone. "Here." She slid it across the desk to Beckett. "I need to be able to reach my captains."

Beckett took it. It was an older model of the brand that she'd treated herself to on her birthday last year. And from the scratched looks of it, it was refurbished. Standard NYPD issue with the force logo on the home screen and pre-loaded with all the apps she needed to do her job.

"I had in mind to take you off the job until we had more information on who attacked you. But as it stands, I don't see the point. Of course I can't have you actively investigating your own attempted murder. So you'll need to stay off that case. But-" Gates lowered her voice. "Off the record. With what you're giving me, I also can't protect you. The least I can do is give you all the resources you need to investigate the murder of Vikram Singh and for god's sake, come to me the moment you have a solid lead."

"I will." Beckett slowly pushed herself off the chair. "Thank you, sir."

"Kate-."

"Yes, sir."

"I don't want to bury a captain on my watch," she added, quietly. Meaning it. "Especially not a damn fine cop who's still got her whole life ahead of her."

"I'll do my best to make sure you don't have to."

"And for god's sake, take the rest of the day and tomorrow off. You look terrible. After that, come back and make Vikram's murder your number one priority. That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

Beckett slowly made her way down the busy corridor after she left Gates' office. Cops of all rank and file criss-crossed her path, some of them staring at her. Not only because of what happened yesterday, but because she was already the infamous inspiration for Nikki Heat. Envy, curiosity and gossip fodder all at once. It used to annoy, and even embarrass her, but now she was more apt to take pride in it. The snickering rolled off her shoulders with ease.

Kate stopped when she saw a water fountain. She reached for the knob and turned it until a steady stream of ice cold water poured out. Splashed some on her face and then drank enough to wake her up. Jolt her out of the fatigue that was pulling her down.

Beckett wiped her lips and spotted Officer Gutierrez waiting for her at the end of the hallway.

She'd follow Gates' orders and not return to the precinct today. Even she could admit that she wouldn't be much use there in her state.

But Beckett did have one more thing to take care of before she needed to decide whether or not to go back home; whether it was better to destroy her marriage or risk the life of the one person she couldn't live without.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

 _Castle Private Investigations, NYC_

 _"I sent her home. Gutierrez took her in the cruiser,"_ Esposito had told him over the phone. _"Seriously Castle, why'd you even let her come to the crime scene? She can barely stay on her feet."_

"'Let her'?" Castle had questioned the absurdity of Esposito's choice of words. "Seriously? This is Beckett we're talking about."

 _"Yeah, right- sorry, bro. Just try and make her stay put for a day, wouldya?"_

Alexis's eyes bored into him after he ended that call. "Well?"

"Espo says she's on the way home."

"Then you should be there too."

They'd both still been leaning against his massive mahogany desk, when his daughter had suddenly given him a push, digging her palms into his side. "Go, Dad. Go home."

"You said you were planning on a surveillance set up for our client and-"

She'd issued another gentle push and then grabbed his hand and led him away from the desk, towards the door. "Which I am perfectly capable of doing myself. In fact, I'll probably get more done without you suggesting completely unrealistic approaches."

"Hey!"

A final push had done the trick.

"Bye, Dad! Give Beckett my best."

Not that he'd really needed all the pushing and pulling. The moment Esposito told him that Beckett was on her way home every fibre in his body wanted to make a beeline for the loft.

He'd been desperate for answers and desperate to have her back.

All of that was two hours ago.

Now he was back at home and still alone, standing beside the pantry and in the process of pouring himself a third glass of scotch.

 _Last one,_ he told himself. Not because he didn't crave a few more, but because he wanted to hold on to the anger that coursed through his veins. Didn't want to dull it too much with alcohol.

He'd been such a fool.

To think that just because Esposito had stuck her in a cruiser and told her to leave a crime scene and go home, that Beckett would actually comply.

He should have known that giving her an ultimatum, to either come home and tell him the truth or not come home at all, would only serve to push her away for good. She'd never reacted in any other way when she felt threatened.

All of her actions in recent weeks were _classic_ Kate Beckett. He realized that too now, while he was sitting in an empty loft foolishly thinking that maybe things had changed. That maybe now that they were married he wouldn't have to fight so hard to make things work between them anymore. To find ways to scale all the walls she kept building around herself, for reasons that he couldn't begin to fathom, despite his abundant imagination.

Castle put down the decanter after he finished pouring and clenched the glass that was one-third full of expensive Scottish whiskey. He hadn't eaten lunch today and was already buzzed after two glasses. There was absolutely no need for a third.

 _Such a fool._

He couldn't quell his rising anger. Knowing that in spite of it all, he was scared to death for her. Worried sick. Hating that he couldn't turn it off.

 _She doesn't care. Least you can do is stop caring in return._

But of course he couldn't. And that only multiplied his resentment.

Castle gripped the glass a little harder.

Then he raised it above his head and channelled all his rage into throwing it across the room. Watched it shatter as it hit the wall beside the fireplace and fell to the ground in dozens of tiny shards.

* * *

 _Long Island, NY_

It took them over an hour to get out to the suburban enclave where Vikram Singh's parents lived.

Beckett might have enjoyed eating the spicy leftovers that Balinder Singh gave her son to take back to the apartment after his visits home, but she'd never met the soft spoken woman before today.

This had always been, and still was, the most unbearable part of her job.

Notifying the next of kin.

But in this case Beckett needed to do it herself. She owed Vikram that much.

So she spent nearly two hours at their house. Vikram's sister was there too and with trembling hands and tear-filled eyes had insisted on preparing them all a batch of soothing herbal tea. Turning it down was not an option and Beckett let the beautiful young woman pour her a cup. It was bitter and full of foreign flavours that her taste buds didn't recognize, but oddly enough, it curbed her nausea. Was exactly what her sensitive stomach needed.

They insisted that Kate stay until the massive pot tea was finished among the four of them.

Apparently, Vikram already told them a lot about his captain and his new job at the 12th.

Kate sat around an ornate dining-room table with the three Singhs, surrounded by colourful tapestries hanging on the walls. Sari-clad Balinder calmly and firmly held on to her husband's hand when Kate told them what happened. In turn, Beckett listened to them tell stories of about their son, the baby in the family, and the only one born here, on US soil. She learned about young Vikram, who hacked into his high school computer database in order to change his best friend's grades. How he got suspended for two weeks as a result, without a single regret, and was later motivated by the death of his oldest sister to join the attorney general's team.

In return, Beckett made sure to tell them how brave he was and assure them that she would do everything in her power to bring those who did it to justice. She let his father pull her into his embrace before stepping back into the cold November afternoon, grateful for the sudden gust of wind that dried her tears.

Officer Gutierrez was waiting in the cruiser, parked on the street. He'd been in the process of biting into a donut when Beckett came out of the house and by the time she entered the car and sat down next to him, he'd stuffed it into a paper bag and set it aside.

"Captain." His mouth was still half full and he wiped some powdered sugar off his lips with the back of his hand. This was the protection they'd given her against Locksat.

"Are we headed back to Manhattan, ma'am?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, already dreading the lengthy drive. It least it wasn't rush hour yet so the traffic wouldn't be that bad.

"To the precinct or to Mr. Castle's home address?"

 _"Mr. Castle's home address."_ Not _her_ home address.

"I don't know yet," she replied truthfully after he started the engine and slowly drove off. "I'll let you know once we're closer to the city."

She leaned back in the seat, bone-weary exhausted. Notifying the next of kin always took a lot out of her and this time around she'd already been running on fumes right from the get-go. Her eye lids kept threatening to close and it took all her willpower to keep them open. To focus on the traffic and the road ahead of them.

If she went back to the loft she'd drag Castle and his family right into the crosshairs.

Goosebumps lined her arms at thought. Kate wrapped her arms around her waist, chilled to the bone, underneath the grey skies.

"Are you cold, ma'am? Would you like me to turn up the heat?"

"No." The cold was the only thing keeping her awake and she needed to be awake in order to make one of the hardest decisions of her life.

* * *

 _Castle residence, NYC_

By the time the clock struck four in the afternoon, Castle was certain she wasn't coming home and it hurt. In spite of his anger and wounded pride. A heaviness compressed his heart and immobilized him. Made it hard to breathe and impossible to put one foot in front of the other.

 _I've lost her._

It was over and he didn't even really know why.

He sat down on the sofa and stared into his study, at the bookshelf in his line of vision.

She'd walked into his life like a bolt of lightning, a dead-serious, badge-wielding cop that stormed into a party room full of plastic people and made a beeline for him. She was bossy, infuriating, unyielding and demanding. But mostly inspiring. No one else had ever reignited his muse with a single glance in his direction the way she did. Kate Beckett inspired him and made him a better writer. But, more than that, she made him a better person. She made him _care._

And now she was gone.

He had no idea how long he'd been sitting on the couch staring at his bookshelf when he heard a knock on the door. Barely audible at first, then louder and more forceful.

Castle stumbled when he stood up because both of his legs had fallen asleep. A hundred needles poked him from ankle to groin as he made his way to the door, the pain rousing him from his trance.

His mother had a habit of forgetting her house keys lately that drove him crazy and he was ready to tell her as much when he opened the door.

Instead he saw Beckett standing outside in the hallway.

"Hi."

Rick stared at her in disbelief.

"Can I come in?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

I don't usually do lengthy author's notes to explain my writing. Fiction is so subjective and everything I say can easily be countered with a "Yes, but...". But- given the overwhelmingly negative response to my last chapter I wanted to clarify a couple of things.

I admit I've struggled with this story. There have been some plot holes and there might a couple more to come. If that's a deal breaker for you when reading fan fic, you've been warned.

Several readers also pointed out how highly unrealistic these characters' actions have been and how they'd all be fired in real life. I am asking for a certain suspension of disbelief, just as the show does: the characters do things almost on a weekly basis that would see them fired in real life. Kate's actions in this story aren't all that different from those in season 8 and she's still gainfully employed. I've always intended the main focus to be the personal chaos and turmoil that these characters go through and to see how they weather that storm. It's meant to be a bit of an angsty homage to my soap opera roots.

As for the characters being out of character; to me, Beckett has always been single-mindedly driven and sometimes guilty of questionable choices when it comes to her pursuit of justice. Whether this makes her admirable or despicable is entirely open to interpretation. I never got the sense that Stana portrays Beckett as a character who cares all that much about being well-liked, so I won't write her that way either. To me she's human and flawed, and after the loss of her mother, absolutely terrified at the thought of losing someone else she loves. And there's no one she loves more than Castle.

Meanwhile, I see Castle as a character who might have ample reason to be bitter after being abandoned by his father and raised by a mother who wasn't always particularly maternal, but instead he has incredible capacity for forgiveness, especially for those he loves. Whether that's a weakness or a beautiful thing is debateable too. That's not to say he doesn't get angry and frustrated and says and does things he regrets. Like Beckett, to me he's human too, and I want to write him as such.

To those who asked whether Beckett was having meals with Vikram's family the answer is no. Vikram brought home leftovers when visiting his family and Beckett sometimes ate them. Perhaps that wasn't very clear so I've gone back and clarified things. I also made a timeline mistake in the crime scene section and changed that as well. Thank you to those who pointed that out.

I know that in posting my story here, I'm opening it up to feedback and criticism of all sorts. I accept that, even if some of it stings, especially when this is my fun, escapist hobby. But I'm an adult with reasonably thick skin, so if you get satisfaction from telling me how awful this is, I suppose I'm glad I could provide you with that outlet.

That said, I'm not a total masochist either. I share my stories here because if others enjoy them only a fraction as much as I've enjoyed other people's stories, this makes me happy. But if I see that's not the case, that this story is more offensive than enjoyable to most readers, then I'm also okay to stop posting it here and to finish it at my own pace offline.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII**

 _Castle Residence, NYC_

 _"Can I come in?"_

Her face was pale and drawn, cheekbones pronounced and eyes lined with an unhealthy greyish tint. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, hands inside the pockets of her wool blazer. Uncertain and hesitant. So unlike the commanding force of nature that he knew so well.

Castle opened the door a little wider and spotted the two uniforms standing guard outside in the hallway.

 _"Can I come in?"_

Her words echoed in his head. He never imagined she'd ever feel the need to ask.

"Castle?"

"This is your home too."

"I lost the keys two nights ago when-"

"I figured."

She took a couple of tentative steps inside and made no move to take off her shoes or her jacket and for a moment he wondered if maybe she only came by to say goodbye. Not to come home.

Beckett didn't say anything either. Just stood there.

It scared him a little. To see her like this.

"You okay?" She didn't look okay.

"Tired," she admitted, finally. "Really tired."

"Come on," he put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the sofa where he'd been staring into space for the last hour or so. Helped her slide off her jacket as soon as she removed her hands from its pockets. She was so unresponsive to his gestures that it made him wonder whether she even noticed.

One of his hands brushed against hers and he noticed they were ice cold. Grabbing them instinctively, he cupped them in between his own and started rubbing. Heating them up with his warmth.

"You're frozen."

"It's getting cold out. Left a bit of the window open in the cruiser," she explained, sitting down on the sofa. He followed suit because her hands were still cushioned between his own.

"Why?"

She didn't answer and he didn't press. Kept rubbing her hands together until they didn't feel like icicles anymore.

Rick's natural inclination was to pull them up to his lips. Kiss them warm.

But he didn't.

That was something he'd have done two months ago. Before she left. Before his natural inclinations no longer felt natural.

"Thanks," she murmured after he let go. One exhausted glance in his direction let him know she meant it.

"Want something warm to drink?"

"Please."

Castle got up and stepped into the kitchen, poured some water into the kettle and plugged it in. Searched the cabinet for some tea bags. Neither him nor Beckett were tea drinkers but Martha often bought back some herbal concoctions from her spa retreats. He figured that was a safer bet than the strong, brewed coffee she usually preferred when it came to hot beverages.

Then again, maybe he shouldn't assume. As if he had any clue what was going on in her mind these days.

"Kate?" He called out to the living room. Tilted his head to get a view of the sofa and noticed that she'd leaned into one of the armrests, draped an arm over it and rested her head on top of both. Eyes closed.

He walked towards her, bent down and squeezed her shoulder. "Kate?"

No response. She was out cold. Fast asleep, even though she was still half sitting up, her upper body hunched over the armrest and her face squished into her arm. She wasn't kidding when she said she was tired.

He debated trying harder to rouse her and then considered just scooping her up and taking her to the bedroom that way. Like he'd done last night when she'd literally fallen asleep against him on the bathroom floor.

But then his anger resurfaced and he wasn't sure he wanted her sleeping there tonight. It was a battle raging inside him, between wanting her so bad it hurt and wanting to inflict some of the same torment she'd thrown his way. To push her away, just as she'd done to him.

The thought of her spending the last two weeks at another man's apartment gnawed at him and clawed at his insides. He wasn't ready for forgiveness. Wasn't feeling it.

But he was awful at hurting her. The rare times he did it, it never felt like much of a victory and barely gave him any satisfaction. Castle didn't have it in him to hurt her and deep down, he was okay with that. It wasn't something he ever wanted to be good at.

Castle turned away from her, walked to the bedroom and came back with a blanket and pillow.

Beckett didn't flinch when he grabbed her legs and lifted them up onto the sofa. Moved her from the armrest and deftly pushed the pillow underneath her head, so she was fully lying down. The sofa was just big enough to accommodate the entire length of her. He took off her boots as well as her holster, sliding an arm underneath her to unfasten it. Placed them both next to the sofa, the gun inside its holster on the table and the boots by the armrest, in case she woke up at night and felt the compulsion to flee again.

Castle wouldn't stop her.

If she was staying he needed it to be of her own volition.

He covered her with the blanket, dimmed the lights in the living room and let her sleep.

* * *

 _Later_

"Aren't you gonna wake her?" Alexis asked, after poking into his study in her pyjamas, stifling a yawn. It was nearly midnight and he thought she'd already gone to bed. Earlier the two of them had a quiet dinner in the kitchen together after Martha called to tell them she wouldn't be coming home.

Kate hadn't so much as stirred while he cooked up a massive pot of pasta, chopping a half dozen tomatoes, banging the occasional pot and running the dishwasher when they finished.

Castle shrugged in response to Alexis's question.

He was sitting at his desk, lap top in front of him trying to put together an article that Black Pawn had roped him into writing for a crime fiction magazine.

After an hour at his desk, he was exactly one paragraph in.

"Is she okay?"

Castle shrugged a second time.

"Fine, Dad. I get it. You don't want to talk about it." Alexis bent down to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight."

He smiled. "It's not that. I don't have answers to your questions. That's all. 'Night, sweetheart."

He stayed at his desk for another hour, which resulted in him eking out one more paragraph that was just as awkward and stilted as the first. If this was the usual pace of his writing, Derrick Storm would still be an unpublished first draft and Nikki Heat wouldn't exist.

But he had to close his computer because his eyes stung with fatigue. He stretched as he got up and padded back into the living room where his wife was still fast asleep on the sofa.

Castle tried to wake her once more, but aside from eliciting an unintelligible groan that at least let him know she was alive, he didn't succeed.

It worried him. Because she never slept this hard.

 _She also never OD'd on heroin before,_ he reminded himself.

Castle walked to the bedroom, shed his clothes and collapsed into bed, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep. Knowing he'd spend the entire night listening for any noise coming from the living room. For any indication that she was on her way out again.

* * *

 _Later_

The room was dark and quiet when her eyes opened.

Beckett turned around, so that she was lying on her back and it took her a second to remember where she was.

The loft. Living room. Sofa.

 _Home_.

Her heart skipped a beat and the started to pound furiously. Part of her suddenly wanted to flee.

What if she made the wrong decision?

She let the feeling of panic wash over her until her heart stopped racing and then raised an arm above her to check the time. Pressed a button on the side of her over-sized men's Omega that lit up the watch-face: _04:07_

It was four in the morning.

Kate stretched and groaned when she noticed how sore her back was. Comfortable as the sofa was, it wasn't Castle's expensive mattress. Or even the basic Ikea model she'd slept on at Vikram's place the last two weeks.

She threw off the blanket and swung her legs off the sofa, socked feet touching the rug below. She didn't remember taking off her boots or falling asleep.

Even in the darkness, she spotted the familiar outline of her gun and holster on the coffee table.

 _Castle._

Her lips rose into a smile.

Kate blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and calculated how long she'd been out for. She arrived the at loft around 5pm, if memory served her right. More than ten hours then.

Something else struck her then. She felt better. The nausea and cramps were gone and though she still had a slight headache, it wasn't nearly as fierce as it had been on the ride back into the city last night.

Her hangover from hell was finally over.

She was starving too. Felt like she could eat an entire fridge full of food.

Kate stood up and the sudden movement made the room spin around her. Not having had a meal in nearly three days really was catching up to her.

She slowly made her way into the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights to open the fridge.

A bowl of pasta was the first thing she saw. It looked like spaghetti with Bolognese sauce; one of her husband's specialities. Leftovers probably, because Martha didn't eat more than a few handfuls of anything and Castle always made too much of everything.

Kate grabbed the bowl and stuck it into the microwave, salivating when it was done and its enticing aroma filled the kitchen.

Kate set down the bowl and lit a couple of candles, not ready for bright lights yet, but not wanting to eat in complete darkness either.

She pulled a fork from a drawer and dug in, as she grabbed the bowl and made her way to a bar stool by the pantry. The spices and herbs mixed with the tartness of the tomatoes, and the rich flavour of the meat, hit her tongue with the first bite and it was quite possibly the best thing she ever ate. She twirled her fork around the pasta and scooped the next bite up greedily, before she'd swallowed the first, determined never to take spaghetti for granted again.

Kate finished half the bowl before noticing a familiar silhouette in the candle-lit room.

Her husband sat down across from her. "Hey."

"Hungry?"

"Yeah-" An understatement. "I hope you don't mind. I ate your leftovers."

"No. Knock yourself out. We made extra in case Mother came home. She didn't."

Kate wolfed down the rest, pausing between twirling up forkfuls of pasta to see her husband observing her. Mild amusement occasionally played on his features and when it did, it overshadowed his obvious fatigue.

"Do you want something else?" he asked after watching her scrape out the last drops of Bolognese sauce.

"I, uh...yes?" She really did. Could eat the same amount again if she was being honest. "But...maybe I better not push it."

"You're right. Probably a good idea."

"Yeah."

Beckett was the one who observed him now, her weary husband sitting in the candlelight with her, clad in a t-shirt and chequered pyjama pants. His messy bed-hair was evidence of how much he'd tossed and turned. Unruly tufts sticking out all over the place and it made her want to run her fingers through it. When her gaze lingered on his face she saw anger there too. Knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't contain it for long.

Rick wasn't a brooder. If something bothered him, he'd let her know.

"Why'd you come home, Kate?"

There it was.

But knowing it was coming and being ready for it were two different things.

"I never wanted to leave."

Castle tightened his lips and slid off the bar stool. His muscles were tense and tight, exaggerating his anger. "But you did. You left and you moved into another's man's apartment."

"Rick- wait."

He'd already stepped away from the counter. Maybe he wasn't ready for this conversation either.

But he'd started it and she hadn't come home to avoid him.

"Please. Let me explain."

He stopped in his tracks and gave her the slightest of nods.

"Vikram and I were working on a case together."

"LockSat and the murder of the AG Team? You mentioned this before you left this morning."

"Yes. But it was completely off the books. We needed it to be until we had enough evidence. I'd often go to his place after work, because it was set up with a secure computer network. Or so we thought. Sometimes I'd stay there and until two or three in the morning. He'd track computer trails and I'd try and link them to drug busts."

Castle flinched but Kate didn't stop.

"Three weeks ago Vikram's roommate moved out and one night after I fell asleep on the couch, he asked me why didn't just stay there, in the spare bedroom. It was closer to the precinct than the furnished apartment I was staying at. At first I said no...but then I realized he was right. Me being there gave us more time to work on this thing and I so badly wanted it over as soon as possible."

Castle's expression was unreadable. The perfect poker face. "Never once did it occur to you to let me in on this?"

Kate bit her lip. "No, it didn't," she answered truthfully. No more lies. After making the decision to come home, she'd sworn she was done with them. She'd already done so much more damage to what was left of their marriage than she ever intended.

She came home because she knew that after Castle rushed to the hospital to be with her two nights ago, he'd automatically made himself a target, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.

Kate knew that whoever had planned the attack on her would have found some means to check on her in the hospital and in the process they would have seen her doting husband not leaving her bedside. They would have realized how much they still meant to each other.

All her feeble, misguided efforts to protect him and keep him out of this mess had failed.

 _Everything_ had failed. Vikram was dead. She still had a target on her head, and now Castle and his family did too. All the minor crumbs of evidence they'd painstakingly gathered over the last two months were gone.

Kate put her elbows on the counter and ran her hands through her hair. The weight of it all suddenly felt unbearably heavy on her shoulders.

" _Why_?" Castle's shaky voice pulled her from her thoughts. "After everything we've been through, why not trust me to have your back and keep your secrets?"

"I met with someone before I decided to pursue this case. She said that if I was going to go after these guys, I had to do it alone. That if I didn't- any blood shed over this would be on my hands. She- her words made me panic, Rick. First thing I thought of when she said that was you and that I could never live with the thought of you paying the price of any of my crusades."

"So some stranger tells you that you can't risk letting anyone in on this and you swallow it, hook, line and sinker? My logical, methodical wife, who always insists on hard evidence above everything else?"

Kate's throat felt dry. "I didn't say it was rational."

He was the one who ran a hand through his hair now, tousling it even further as he eyed her in disbelief. "I'm having a hard time buying this, Kate."

"It's the truth and she wasn't a stranger...this woman is the reason Vikram and I didn't get killed two months ago. She saved us from half a dozen militia-style killers. She says she's your Dad's wife."

" _What_?" Castle narrowed his brows. "You been in touch with my father's wife? Didn't think to mention that me either? Damn it, Kate, you are unbelievable."

"I couldn't tell you about her without telling you about the rest. I haven't seen her since that day. I tried to contact her once using the number she gave me, after Vikram thought someone might be on to us, but I couldn't. Makes me wonder whether she's okay."

"You have no way of knowing? No way of finding her?"

"Aside from the number she gave me, no."

Castle exhaled and Kate observed him trying to digest everything. Felt the guilt rise in her gut with every revelation, every subtle reaction from him. The longing she saw on his face for some sort of connection with his father.

And it was only the start.

"Why?" Castle questioned. "Why pursue this? I understood your need to find your mother's killer, but this? This was never your battle to fight."

"The AG team was killed because of a search I conducted while I worked with them, a search that tried to find criminality links that were tied to Bracken."

"So you felt responsible?"

"Yes."

"Knowing you, you also thought no one else was equally capable."

That one stung. But it was true. "Yes."

"I see."

Kate pushed back her bar stool and got up. "I'm going to make some coffee. If you're up for it, I'll tell you everything else you want to know."

"If I'm up for it?" he snickered. "It's not as though I haven't been waiting two months for you to tell me what the hell was going on."

Kate winced and let it slide off her shoulders. There'd be more of that coming her way and she wouldn't begrudge him his anger and frustration. Reminded herself that she'd react the same way. Probably worse, if she was being honest.

He didn't say a word while she brewed a pot of coffee and it jarred her. She wasn't used to this quiet, brooding Rick Castle. She'd only caught glimpses of this version of him in the past. When Alexis was kidnapped. Whenever Tyson entered their lives.

This version of him surfaced only in dark times and this time she'd been the one who brought him out.

The thought made her shiver in the candle-lit kitchen, realizing then that she still wore the same jeans and turtle-neck she'd gone to work in yesterday. Days and hours had blurred together this week.

When it was ready, she poured the coffee into two of the largest mugs she found in the cabinet. A bit of milk for hers and a generous amount as well as a tea-spoon of sugar for his. Its aroma drifted into her nostrils and it smelled like home.

She carried the mugs across the kitchen, moved over to Rick's side of the counter and set his down first, wanting to sit herself down there too, next to him, close enough that their knees could touch. But she didn't. Instead she m oved back to the other side of the counter where she'd wolfed down her early morning dinner, so she was across from him, facing him.

"You look tired," she said softly.

"Haven't slept much the last few days."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Wasn't your fault what happened."

Except it was, Kate wanted to correct him. None of this would have happened if only she'd walked away from LockSat instead of pursuing it. "Get some sleep," she told him. "We can have this conversation in the morning."

"After you made us both coffee?"

"You don't have to drink it," she tried for a smile and failed miserably. "I'll have yours. Even if it is too sweet."

"Tell me everything," he said, sombre and unmoved by her attempt at lightening the mood. "Before you change your mind in the morning."

Kate cupped her mug in her hands, feeling the heat of the coffee radiate through the ceramic hull, right into her bones. "Okay."

So she did.

Told him everything. Answered his questions when he asked. Didn't flinch when he couldn't help the occasional outburst of anger. Poured them both a second cup of coffee after they finished the first.

"The links that Vikram found to a group of men in the upper echelons of power...what group exactly?"

This was more than she'd confessed to Gates. Was still something that sent a chill through her veins. "The Supreme Court of Justice."

Castle choked on a sip of coffee. "The Supreme Court of Justice?"

"We think LockSat might be connected to or even spearheaded by one of the Supreme Court judges."

"Jesus Christ, Kate." Castle rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I know."

"How?"

"Electronic trails, of course they were re-routed through all sorts of supposedly untraceable ISPs, but Vikram had a way of tracing some of them back to the main server in that building. I'm not sure how, to be honest. All the tech stuff he did was way over my head. I did the hands-on investigating, found ways of linking samples of heroin..."

"It's why they injected you with heroin, isn't it?" Castle was aghast at the realization. "That and Bracken's connection to it all, it's why they dumped you in an alley close to where your mother died."

"Yeah." Kate shuddered at the thought. Didn't want to think too hard about it. Not yet. "It was supposed to be the ultimate message."

"Why not do the same to Vikram?" Castle questioned.

It was a good question, now that she thought about it. A stabbing was always a messy, complicated affair. Why not grab him on the way home and dump them together? Especially if they wanted to send a message.

She'd missed this too, during the whole sordid LockSat mess. Castle's input. His ability to see the story behind the evidence.

"I don't know."

"You should find out why," he suggested. "There has to be a reason."

Kate agreed. "You're right."

"Where do you go from here?" he wanted to know.

"I don't know," she told him. Where _could_ she go without a shred of evidence? "Try and stay alive?"

Castle was pale. Didn't say anything.

"I'm scared," she admitted. It was hard to say out loud. Because her every fibre was wired to protect him. And she knew that no matter how angry he was, the thought that he couldn't protect her gutted him.

"Stay here. They can't blow up the whole building. If the NYPD stops protecting you, we can hire private security."

"You want me to lock myself up in the loft for the rest of my life?"

"If that's what it takes."

She managed a smile this time. "It would defeat the purpose because we'd kill each other."

For the first time since he sat down across from her, the corner of his lips rose into a smirk too. "Not funny."

Kate slid off the bar stool. She was tired again. Two coffees and over ten hours of sleep later, she wondered how that was possible. The pasta, she told herself. Solid food for the first time in almost three days was making her lethargic.

She suddenly wanted to slip back into bed. Preferably next to her husband. "I'm going to try and find who killed Vikram," she told him. "That's my only chance of finding out who LockSat is and taking him down. Going into a man's apartment and stabbing him to death leaves evidence behind, no matter how good these guys are. And I'm going to find it."

"I see."

"Running and hiding won't keep these guys away, babe."

"Going at them has turned out really well so far."

She closed her eyes. "I'm going to shower. Gates ordered me to stay home tomorrow." She eyed the illuminated dials of the clock on the wall near the entrance of the kitchen. It was just after 5am. "I mean...today."

Castle nodded, the exhaustion dragging him down too now. "You do that."

God, she craved his touch. Wanted his arms around her so badly because that was the only thing that was going to make all this bearable. Coming home. Risking _everything_.

But he made no move to follow her. Remained on his seat by the counter as she made her way out of the kitchen.

"Castle- " she turned around before she was in the living room, towards his candle-lit silhouette.

"Yeah?"

"If you'd rather- I can sleep in the guest bedroom. I understand if you're not-"

"Do what you want, Kate." His voice cut her off, sounding harsher in the darkness than it might have in the light of day. "You always do."

That hurt too. Made her move an involuntary hand to scar above her heart and press on it, massage its edge with her thumb, as if somehow that futile gesture would ease the pain underneath. The one that had nothing at all to do with a sniper's bullet.

 _He didn't say yes._

Kate tried to find some consolation in that. In the knowledge that he knew exactly what her choice would be and, deep down, he was fine with it.

* * *

 _Later_

He was lying on his side, turned away from her side of the bed when she slipped underneath the sheets, wearing only a loose t-shirt and a pair of her favourite pyjama shorts.

Kate buried her face in her pillow and turned to her husband's backside. Inched both herself and her pillow closer and closer until she was nearly spooning him. Noticing then how controlled his breathing was.

He wasn't asleep. He was only pretending so that she'd leave him alone.

Beckett placed a hand on his side and rested it there, along the familiar contours of his body. She drew lazy circles until she felt his breathing even out into a steady, uncontrolled rhythm. Until he finally fell asleep.

Maybe he wasn't ready to forgive her.

But her being here, it calmed him. Gave him the rest he needed so badly.

It was a start.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX**

 _Castle Residence, NYC_

He was already gone by the time she woke up.

Castle's side of the bed was rumpled and bare. The hand that she'd been resting on his back before she fell asleep was now lying on a soft, empty bed sheet.

Kate stretched herself in the direction of where he would have been.

 _What were you expecting?_ She thought darkly. _You're not in a hospital near death anymore._

A pang of guilt hit her hard when she thought of how often he might have woken up like this in the past two months. With her side of the bed bare and cold.

 _How many times did you reach for me in the morning and I wasn't there?_

Kate frowned and pushed herself up, brushed her tangled hair out of her face with her fingers and checked the time on the alarm clock. It was almost 11am.

No wonder her stomach was growling.

For a while last night, long after Castle had fallen asleep, she wanted to kick herself for her late night gluttony because she was certain she'd throw it all up again. But she didn't. She kept it down and eventually fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And now she felt that much better because of it. Eager to tackle another meal.

She was hoping that maybe Castle would be in the kitchen but when she got there, it was Alexis who was seated on a stool, with a textbook in front of her and munching on what looked like a quick breakfast. It make Beckett wonder whether Castle had already gone out. Whether he'd left for the day.

"Hi, Kate," Alexis greeted her.

"Hi, Alexis."

Kate wasn't sure what to expect from the young woman. The relationship between her and Little Castle had always been civil and tenuous at best and Kate figured that leaving her father for two months had probably reversed all the progress the two of them had made since she moved into the loft.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Thanks." Beckett stepped over to the coffee machine and slid a cup on it before brewing a fresh batch.

"So- " Alexis took a bite of her muffin. "Does this mean you're back here for good?"

So no beating around the bush then. Kate could appreciate that. "I'd like to be."

Alexis raised her eyebrows. "You'd _like_ to be? What does that even mean?"

"It's not only my decision," she tried to explain, suddenly wishing she'd stayed in the bedroom a little longer. "It's up to your Dad too."

"I can't imagine Dad not wanting you to be," Alexis told her matter-of-factly. "He's been wanting you back here since the day you left."

"I hope so."

"Do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really hope he wants you back? Because if he doesn't, doesn't that make it easier for you to take off again? It'll give you a good excuse."

Kate bite her lip. Hard enough that it hurt. "I'm not looking for excuses to leave him. Or any of you."

Alexis set down her muffin as though she had no longer had any interest in eating it. "We missed you, you know. Not just Dad, but all of us. You were part of our family."

"I missed you too. You have no idea."

"No, I don't," Alexis shot back. Her clear-blue eyes were unreadable. There was no malice in them, but no kindness either. "Because you never tell us anything. We have no idea whether you're missing us or whether you're too wrapped up in something else to care."

Kate accepted the reprimand with a subtle nod. The coffee was almost ready but she didn't want to get it and sit down next to Alexis. She stayed where she was, standing next to the machine. "I get too wrapped up in what I do. I know that. But your Dad, you and your family...you're the best part of my life."

Judging from the sceptical glance that came her way, Alexis didn't believe her. "Did you know that Dad thought it was his fault?"

"What?"

"Dad said you didn't give him a reason why you left, only that you needed time to do something on your own."

"It's true...but I told him I loved him. That I had to do this alone in order to save our marriage in the long run. He couldn't possibly have thought that he was in any way at-"

"But he did," Alexis cut her off. "He thought maybe if he'd done something different you wouldn't have left. That maybe he couldn't give you what you needed in a partner. That he wasn't enough of a cop, or something silly like that."

"He's wrong, Alexis."

"I wasn't saying that he was right," Alexis clarified. "And I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I just thought you should know, in case he doesn't tell you. Dad's always been really good at pretending he's okay when he's not. Especially when it comes to you. He never wants us to think anything bad about you. He wants us to see you the way he does." Alexis toyed with a paper napkin. "He did the same thing with my Mom too when I was growing up. Never said a bad thing about her. I didn't learn the real reason they broke up until grandma spilled one night after she had too much wine."

The words cut right into her heart. Tightened themselves like a vice around it and it hurt.

 _"He never wants us to think anything bad about you. He wants us to see you the way he does."_

Worst of all, Alexis was right. She never for a second considered that Castle might blame himself for her leaving. How could he? She'd been so sure that he _knew_ how much he meant to her, that he was the best partner she could have ever asked for. That it was never about him having done anything wrong.

But obviously she'd done a lousy job of making that clear.

"Thanks," Beckett whispered. The knot was tight in her throat now. "I'm glad you told me."

"I gotta go," Alexis grabbed the rest of her muffin after wrapping it up in a napkin. Gave her a meagre smile. "I really am glad you're okay."

Kate nodded, not entirely trusting her voice to say anything else. If she'd made inroads before when it came to Little Castle they were all swept away now. She was back to square one, having to earn the young woman's trust all over again.

She stared at the handful of pastries, two muffins, a croissant and blueberry danish, that were left on the large plate, but her earlier appetite was gone again, overshadowed by the steady pulse of pain underneath her temples and the lingering heaviness in her heart.

She wanted to find Castle and grab him by the collar. Kiss away the ludicrous notion that he'd done something wrong. That he wasn't good enough. She wanted to tell him over and over again that he couldn't be more wrong, until he believed it and forever banished the thought from his mind.

Kate turned around with the intention of searching for him when she heard the still unfamiliar ring tone of her new phone. She spotted it on the coffee table, where she'd accidentally left it last night. Saw Esposito's number on the call display.

Kate picked it up and answered it. "Hey."

"How you doin'?"

"I'm okay. Any updates on Vikram's murder?"

"I'm working on your kidnapping right now," he told her. "I do have updates on that and they're not good. Maybe you should sit down for this."

Beckett was about to tell him to spit it out but then she followed his advice instead and plopped herself down on the comfortable sofa. "Tell me."

"The four plate numbers that Leon gave us for the van turned up nothing. I think he might've been wrong about them. I went back to the area where they dumped you, Ryan and I we canvassed a ten block radius, trying to find the guy so we could bring him in, but no luck. He's disappeared into thin air. 'Course he doesn't have an address and he's not in the system so we'll just have to keep looking."

Kate swallowed, a chill suddenly ran up the entire length of her spine. She didn't want to consider what that could mean. They should have protected him. Forced him into protective custody even if he didn't want it. "What about the cameras at the precinct garage? There are three of them there. One of them had to turn up something."

"Disabled."

" _What_?"

"All three of them were disabled shortly before they took you. The first one at one fourteen, the last one at four thirty. That's almost an hour before you said you were taken."

"That's not possible-"

"Of course we then went for the closest traffic cams. There's four within a few blocks of the garage."

"And?"

"Same thing. Disabled."

"Javi, that is _not_ possible!"

"Beckett, listen to me. Whoever took you- they're professionals who covered every inch of their tracks. The way it stands right now we can't even verify that anyone actually kidnapped you."

"I was shot full of heroin and dumped in an alley!"

"And found by a homeless guy who isn't around anymore to verify his story."

Kate felt like she'd been punched in the gut and she struggled to think straight.

"Hey," his voice cut through her silence. " _I_ know that's what happened. You don't have to convince me."

"There's got to be something, Jav. If the immediate traffic cams didn't turn up anything, then keep going. Expand the radius. Something's gonna turn up. What about tire tracks in the garage? I fought one of the guys before they dragged me into the van. Pretty sure I drew blood. Check for residue on the concrete." So they were good. She'd known that already. Good didn't mean they disabled every traffic cam in Manhattan.

"We're working on it but it's a _garage_ , Beckett. It's full of damn tire tracks."

"Espo-"

"Look, we'll find something. If they disabled the cameras there's a trail there because civilians can't just disable traffic cams. So we're looking into that. But I wanted to let you know that right now it's not lookin' so good."

"Okay," she struggled to stay calm. Wanted to grab her clothes and do something, _anything_ , rather than sit here and wait for the other shoe to drop. "Thanks."

"We got your back here, Beckett," he added. "Get some rest and don't even think about coming in."

The tiniest of smiles raised the corner of her lips. He knew her so well. "Okay."

He hung up the phone without another word and only then did Beckett notice that her knuckles were white from holding it so tight.

* * *

 _Later_

He didn't hear her come in; not until she was standing next to him, holding a mug of coffee in her hands.

Kate set it down on top of his desk, next to his lap top and Castle saw the steam rising from the mug. Stared at it because it took effort to stop his eyes from wandering in her direction. It's where they always gravitated whenever she was near him.

"You been in here for hours," she said. "Thought you might like some coffee."

"Thanks," he mumbled. It was the first words they'd spoken all day. He'd gone out for breakfast and not returned home until the early afternoon. When she asked where he'd been, he walked past her without a reply, right into his study, and closed the door shut behind him. He figured that Beckett would get the hint, being the brilliant detective that she was.

"Nikki Heat?"

"No." Castle picked up the mug, still not looking at her. Staring at his computer screen now, where the words began to lose all their meaning. They were little black symbols, serpentine scrawls, alive and pulsating against a sea of white. He hadn't been able to write a single sentence in his latest Nikki Heat novel. Not since Kate had walked out the door two months ago.

Gina was ready to kill him.

"It's an article I promised to write for a mystery writer's magazine. Due tomorrow."

"Ah- "

He took a sip of coffee. It was perfect. Hot, sweet, milky. Just the way he liked it. He didn't realize how much he'd been craving one until she set it down in front of him.

"What's it about?"

Castle set the mug back when he felt Beckett perch herself on the armrest of his chair, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body radiating into his personal space. It took every ounce of willpower not to reach for her. Instead he cranked his imagination into overdrive.

He wondered what she was wearing, how thin the fabric was, whether it hugged her skin or not, how it would feel to slowly peel it off, how soft her flesh would be against the tips of his fingers-

Castle pressed his eyes shut.

She was probably wearing something comfortable. He'd seen her on the sofa with a book in her hands when he got home and guessed that she hadn't left the loft all day.

Castle still hadn't answered her question because he no desire whatsoever to discuss the article on his laptop. The kind of thing he used to be able to crank out in a hour and now took him two days to eke out.

"I'm sorry," she said in response to his silence. "Moving in with Vikram was stupid and thoughtless and I'm a jerk for not realizing how much it would hurt you. Should have told you that last night too. That I'm so sorry."

 _Yeah. Me too._

He felt her hand on his arm. Her touch was electric and it sent a surge of yearning right along the curve of his elbow.

"I know you're angry. Don't blame you. But I want you to know I'd never betray..." She couldn't say the rest.

 _I know._

He really did know that with certainty. In spite of _everything_.

"And I didn't leave because I thought you weren't worthy of being my partner or capable of protecting me the way you think you're supposed to. I left precisely because I know you're all of that. I know you'd jump of front of a bullet for me without a second's hesitation and I couldn't have that. Knowing that you would do that- " There was a hitch in her voice. "Terrifies me more than anything else."

Castle swallowed. At a loss for words.

"I get it. You don't want me around right now." Kate's lips brushed against his temple, smooth and warm. "I'll leave you alone. But I want you to know I love you. I never stopped. Not for a minute."

She slid off the armrest of his chair and was already one step away, when he grabbed her wrist and coiled his fingers around it. "Kate- don't go."

It was madness. All of it.

He'd given her an ultimatum to either come home or stay away for good and she did. She came home.

He asked her to tell him everything and she did.

And he'd pushed her away ever since.

Two nights ago, he'd have given anything for her to make it through the night, and here she was, back at home, healthy and breathing and kissing him and he couldn't even look at her.

 _It was madness._

After two months apart they finally had full day together, in an empty loft no less, and all he'd done was wallow in silent anger.

He was still angry. At himself, for wanting her so badly in spite of it all. He was angry at her for dragging him through hell and back this week. And God knows he was angry at the monsters who still wanted her dead, who were making him feel so utterly helpless and useless.

Castle finally turned around to face his wife.

She wore a loose t-shirt and yoga pants, hair tied up in a messy bun and tears silently streaming down her cheeks. He hadn't heard a single sniffle. He wouldn't have known she was crying if he hadn't turned around to look at her.

Kate Beckett was always quiet with her sorrow. Let it swallow her up until she was close to drowning.

Castle tugged at her wrist and pulled her down into him, until she was on his lap, her legs daggling side-ways off his own, bare feet not quite touching the floor. Her face quickly burrowed into the space below his collarbone while her fingers caught hold of the fabric of his shirt and she fisted it into the palm of her hand.

He brushed his chin against her cheek, until it was wet with her tears.

Castle closed his eyes and let the rest of his senses soak her in, the familiar scent, the heavy warmth of her body and they way her flesh sank into his. The sheer contentment that came with having her back in his arms slowly melted his anger and washed away his wounded pride in the process. As if any of it would ever matter more than this.

Having her in his arms, it struck him again how much weight she'd lost during her time away. Castle was far too familiar with the weight of her on top of him, with the contours of every curve, not to notice the difference. Made him realize that maybe this whole separation, self-imposed or not, had been just as hard on her as it had been on him. Over the years that he'd known her, there'd only been a handful of times when she really bordered on too-thin. Like in the months after she took a bullet to the chest. And now. When he could feel bones press against him in the places where he used to feel flesh.

Rick turned off his computer screen with the touch of a button. Even though he suddenly had the urge to write again.

Funny. Such was the effect she had on him. Since the day they first met.

His fingers slowly skimmed the length of her arm and then trailed across her abdomen, across her cotton t-shirt, reacquainting themselves with her, until they ended up on her thigh. He gave it a squeeze and in return she snuggled into him some more and gave him a content little moan.

He lowered his chin in order to kiss the soft spot between her brows. She furrowed them in response and Castle raised a free hand to her temple, letting his fingers trace the nasty bruise that covered most of it. Then they ventured further, into the hair she'd tied up, loosening it so that long strands fell freely over his hand.

She leaned into his touch. "Mmm...feels nice."

"Your head still hurts?"

"It's okay."

 _So that's a yes._ His fingers continued his subtle massage. He'd forgotten that too, in the fog of his anger. How hurt she still was. It was easy to forget because she never let on. "Think the doc was right? That you have a concussion?"

"Probably."

"Should you do something about it?"

She shrugged. "Not much you can do except wait for it to get better."

"Some things you can do." He'd banged up enough characters in his books to have done some research on this. "Turn off the lights, rest, take some painkillers."

She looked up at him with a lazy smile and brown-green eyes full of love and adoration. That was unmistakeable too, now that he let his guard down and let himself see it. "Okay, Castle. Turn off the lights then."

Her arms reached up and snaked around his neck, pulling the rest of her body up until she was straddling him, both of them at equal height, her eyes demanding his attention. Beckett slowly leaned in for a kiss. The kind of possessive, hungry kiss that made him want to claim her all over again.

Her body pressed against his as her tongue slid deeper and claimed him first. Her hands cupped his face and pulled him in, because Kate Beckett kissed the way she lived. No hesitation and no backing down. As though all of it was a full-body contact sport. Life. Love. Everything.

The chair tilted back and for a second Castle was afraid they might both topple over, but, with his hands on her hips now, still kissing her back because he couldn't stop, he used the strength of his legs to propel them both forward.

He wanted to grab her and lift her onto his desk, make love to her right this very second. Because after more than two months of unbearable waiting he absolutely could not wait another moment.

Two months of pent up tension were begging for a release and he couldn't hold back anymore. He needed her. All of her.

Kate was grinning after they stopped kissing and it reminded him that she loved this. Loved how much he wanted her. Always had. Even in their early days, when she disguised it all with eye-rolls and sarcasm.

Their noses touched and her breath was hot and heavy on his skin. She hesitated only an instant before kissing him again. "Let me show you how much I love you."

Castle got up with her body still clinging to his. Kate wrapped her arms around his neck and her long legs around his thighs. Thankfully the bedroom was close.

Her lips moved to his ear while they moving and her teeth nipped on a lobe when he stumbled. "Sorry," she whispered and then soothed the bite mark with her mouth. Almost made him want to stumble again.

When he got to the foot of the bed, Castle lowered himself first, backwards so that she was one top when they were lying down. She straddled him as soon as he was on his back and his hands automatically moved to her hips, steadying her so she could take off her t-shirt. He was wildly pleased to discover she was wearing nothing underneath. Sometimes she really did make him feel like a sixteen-year old again.

When she was done Castle's strong arms flipped her around. Rolled them both over so that she was on the bottom, giving him the chance to slip off the bed and take off his damn pants. Except he was too distracted, couldn't stop his eyes from sinking in the sight of her, gloriously half naked in front of him.

"Anytime, speedy."

Castle yanked off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. Unbuttoned his pants and made them follow suit, before doing the same for her. Slowly sliding off her yoga pants, over her hips to reveal the black barely-there panties she was wearing underneath. Stood in quiet reverence for a moment, before kneeling down at the foot of her bed.

"You're beautiful."

He was ready to slide off her panties too, maybe with the help of his teeth and tongue...and then something else suddenly occurred to him and he forced himself to stop before he started. Instead, he lowered his head onto her belly and planted a tender kiss there. Onto the red slash of her most recent bullet scar, which stood out starkly against her pale skin. Seeing it still left him full of mixed emotions. Anger. Regret. But there was pride too. She was so tough. His warrior.

Castle kissed the soft flesh again before he exhaled and pulled back.

"Castle?" Kate pushed herself onto her elbows. "Hey...what's wrong? You don't want-?"

"We should not be- doing this if you have concussion. Not so soon. Physical activity it's- it's not a good idea."

"Oh Castle-" She was grinning again, relieved. "You and all your research." Beckett grabbed his hands and licked the top of his thumb before she pulled him back towards her. "I love you."

"Kate- " But her lips were already on his again. Cutting off his words and his breath and accelerating his heart rate.

"We'll take it easy," she assured him. "Go slow and take our time."

"Okay." Castle nodded and bent his elbows so he could stroke her nipples with his tongue. "Okay. Slow. Gentle." He could do slow. Sure he could. Maybe.

He slid the last remnants of fabric off her body and his roving fingers discovered that she really was as ready as he was.

"Rick..." Her fingers weaved through his hair, clutching at it when he suddenly hit the right spot with his index finger and a moan escaped her swollen lips. " _Rick_."

God, he loved the way that one syllable rolled off her tongue. Raw and desperate.

"Hmm?"

"Not too gentle."

* * *

 **A/N** : Big thank you to those still reading this and taking the time to leave your feedback! I've decided to moderate the guest reviews for the first time ever. I've no issues at all with anyone critiquing the story, but I'm done allowing those who are using this fic as a platform to rage and vent and curse about the show or about a character they hate. From now on, any obscene, ranting anonymous reviews will be deleted.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

 _Javier Esposito's apartment, NYC_

There was a notice from the post office, lying on the rug by his door. He must've missed it when he came home last night. It instructed him to pick up a package because he'd missed the last three delivery attempts.

Of course he did. Because he was never at home anymore. At least not during the kind of sane, daytime hours when a postal worker might try and deliver something.

Javier Esposito didn't have breakfast yet but he didn't have time for that either. He'd grab a donut on the way to the precinct. He picked up the slip of paper and put it on the nearest shelf, knowing he wouldn't have time to pick up the package anytime soon. Knowing exactly who it was from.

There was only one person who ever sent him anything in the mail. His aunt, Luz, who lived in El Paso and loved to knit. She sent him a handmade sweater every November because: " _Madre Dios, que hace frio en Nueva York!"_

She'd also toss in some of those spicy cinnamon candies from Mexico that he loved. The ones you couldn't get here, no matter how many Latin grocery stores he'd searched looking for them. She'd always throw in some pirated _telenovela_ DVDs too. Esposito would never admit it to anyone, but they were his favourite part of her winter care packages.

Those DVDs were saved for lonely nights and there had been a lot of those since the demise of his relationship with Lanie. Nights when he wasn't in the mood for his state-of-the-art video game system or for trying his luck at a bar that wasn't full of his cop buddies. In spite of his swagger, Esposito wasn't exactly a serial dater. He'd seen too many freaks, liars and killers in his line of work for it not to make it damn near impossible to trust anyone.

Sometimes when he gave it a moment of thought he realized this wasn't exactly how he imagined he'd be living at this stage in his life. But that's the way things went when all you ever cared about was being a cop. Luckily, he didn't think about it all too often.

His phone buzzed the second he stepped outside his apartment. Esposito glanced down at the screen and saw that it was Ryan.

"Yo." He pressed it against his ear using his shoulder while locking the door.

 _"Get your ass down here. A uniform found something big three blocks from Vikram's place. They're taking it to forensics now."_

"'Kay. Be there in fifteen."

Finally. A damn lead.

* * *

 _Richard Castle's loft, NYC_

This time he was there when she woke up. Sitting up, leaning against the backboard of the bed, looking down at her with one of those smiles that she loved so much; the one that was an impossible combination of shy and cocky.

She returned it with a grin of her own. "Hey-"

"Hey."

"You know how I feel about you watching me sleep."

"You look awake to me."

"Funny."

She stretched with a yawn and reached for him. Grabbed his arm and pulled it next to her cheek on her pillow. She couldn't get enough of him tonight. Tonight she'd forgive him for any of the dozen things he did that usually drove her crazy. His thumb ran up her nose and settled on her forehead, before his hand spread out and he ran his fingers through her hair.

God, that felt good.

"How's your head?"

"Hurts."

His smile faded and he furrowed his brows. "We really shouldn't have-"

"Yes," she cut him off. "We should. So glad that we did."

It was worth it. The soreness she felt all over her body. The pounding in her skull. _Worth it. All of it._

Beckett pulled herself up and moved closer to him, hooking one of her legs between his.

"Lie down," she told him so that she could rest her head on his chest.

He did as she asked and his arm instinctively draped over her back, until his hand rested on her ass and he grabbed it to pull her closer.

"We said slow and gentle," he pointed out, kissing her bare shoulder.

"Screw that."

"Guess we did. Literally."

She chuckled. "I leave the metaphorical stuff up to you."

In fairness, they did start off gentle. Their first round was slow and tender and it was wonderful. But after two months of longing, it wasn't enough. It was a tease that barely scratched the surface.

Castle was the one who was reluctant, because even though he wanted it too, his love for her always ran deeper than his wants and needs.

Not that he needed _that_ much arm twisting.

After that it was loud and rough and messy. At one point nearly everything was on the floor; both of them, the sheets, the alarm clock and at least one pillow.

It was exactly what they needed.

Now Castle's hand ran down her back and she wanted to sink back into him, her body soft and pliant in the aftermath of it all. Except that another round would probably kill them both.

"You want food?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts. His roving hand was back in her hair and she wished he'd leave it there. Massage the pain away as only he could.

"Food?" Beckett extricated herself from him and glanced at the alarm clock, wondering what the time was. She'd lost all track of it these last few days.

9:32pm.

"I'm starving," he admitted.

She was too. Being hack at the loft was affecting her appetite. In the two months that she was away, she mostly forced herself to eat. Digging into Vikram's leftovers or stopping at an all-night take out place at the end of the day when her body reminded her that she hadn't fuelled it all day.

But here, she suddenly yearned for everything good again. Food. Sleep. Castle.

Kate sank back onto her pillow. "Food means putting on clothes."

"Says who?" Castle pulled back the bed sheets and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll go make something. You stay here, where clothing is optional. You already know which option I prefer."

She watched him walk across the room, staring shamelessly at all his wonderful assets. "Okay. Be a man. Hunt down some food for us."

He pounded a fist against his broad chest. "Yes ma'am."

He wasn't gone for much more than ten minutes before she tossed her sheets off as well. Missing him already and far too restless to stay in bed, no matter how warm and comfortable as it was. Beckett walked over to the closet, grabbed some clothing and put it on hastily before heading outside into the living room.

The sight in front of her put a smile on her face.

Castle, Martha and Alexis were all there, together in the kitchen, chatting noisily about something. Happy.

 _Home._ It felt like home.

She bit her lip and watched them from a distance before Castle spotted her. Kate could've sworn he had some sort of spooky radar when it came to her. Always knew when she was around even if she wasn't making a sound.

"Look who decided to join us."

Three heads suddenly turned in her direction and it made Beckett feel oddly self-conscious. Everything about her screamed sex. Her messed up hair, her slow, careful movement and the afterglow that was probably written all over face, including the cheeks that were blushing now.

"Well, darling, what are you standing there for?" Martha Rodgers got up and went to grab her, leading her into the kitchen with an arm around her back. "Alexis and I were having a nightcap." She waved a hand into the air. "Or I should say I was having a nightcap and she was having a hot chocolate, when Richard comes in and starts cooking up a storm!" She shot Beckett a knowing look. "Looks like someone worked up an appetite."

Unlike herself, Martha was immaculate, even at ten o'clock at night. Not a hair out of place or single wrinkle in her dress. Castle's mother was always on stage and Kate marvelled at her elegance.

"Hi Alexis," Kate greeted Little Castle before scooting over to the bigger one. The one who really was cooking up a storm. "Can I help?" she asked him.

"No," he put a hand on the small of her back. "Go sit and gossip with the ladies of the house."

"Gossip?" she whispered, standing on her tip toes to kiss the base of his neck.

"Or whatever."

Kate obliged him and sat down on a bar stool where Alexis was sipping on mug full of hot chocolate, a puff of whipped cream on her lips. She hadn't really acknowledged her presence but Beckett was fine with that. It would take time to repair their relationship and she was willing to put in whatever work it would take. Martha had something warm in her mug too, warm and strong, judging from the smell of Bailey's wafting from it.

Castle's mother pushed a large bottle of Tylenol in her direction.

"Richard asked me to get these for you from my bathroom," she looked at her gravely. "He says you have a concussion. Oh dear, isn't that what football players get after bashing their heads into each other all day?"

Kate looked at the bottle, hesitating a moment before opening it and pouring two pills into the palm of her hand. The other drugs had to be out of her system by now and it was time she stopped being stoic and stupid about this. If anything were to happen to Martha, Alexis or Castle when her focus was off or her reaction time too slow because her head hurt, she'd never forgive herself.

Beckett was about to slip off the barstool to get some water but Rick already beat her to it. A tall, water-filled glass appeared on the counter before she got the chance. "Thanks, babe."

"I find those go down best with a mimosa," Martha remarked.

Kate smirked. "I bet." Alcohol was something else she'd try and forego in the immediate future. She needed to make her alertness a priority. Needed to start thinking like a cop again. A cop that someone wanted dead. On that note, her glance went to her gun in the living room, still sitting inside its holster on top of a shelf. It was too far away.

Beckett went to retrieve it. Placed it on the kitchen counter within arms reach of her, noticing Alexis and Martha's eyes following her with apprehension.

"Are we really in that much danger?" Alexis asked, her gaze fixed on the gun. All the easy light-heartedness she'd walked into was suddenly gone, replaced by a solemnity that draped the entire room. It filled her with a pang of guilt. Made her want to flee all over again. Because they deserved better than this.

"I think- " Kate paused when she caught Rick looking at her. "It can't hurt to be careful. That's all."

"I'm sorry," she told him later. Long after Alexis and Martha left to go to bed, and she was holding an amply stuffed fish taco in her hand. Castle had scraped them together in less than fifteen minutes. Frozen, battered fish, flour tortillas, home-made guacamole and bottled salsa with dabs of sour cream, lime and hot sauce.

Castle liked to tell her she was extraordinary, but most days was Kate convinced it was the other way around, that the adjective really was more suited to him than her. Truth was, she was very good at one thing: being a cop. But Castle? He was extraordinary in so many ways; as a father, a writer, a cook, an investigator, never mind the things he made her feel in the bedroom (and other rooms). _That_ was a whole other level of extraordinary.

"Sorry about what?"

"The gun," she said between bites. "Killing the mood."

"You're trying to keep us safe. Don't apologize for that."

"Your family," she tried to explain. "There's this happiness, this light-heartedness about them, about all of you. It's special, Castle. Sometimes I feel like I'm messing that up. Messing with the natural order of things."

He took a big bite of a taco himself, getting a dab of sour cream right on the tip of his nose. Made Kate want to lick it off. "Can't imagine being happy without you here to mess things up."

She smirked. "Thanks. I think."

"You make me happy. Here- " he offered her another taco after wiping the sour cream off his nose. "I can see these are making you happy."

"I've already had two," she groaned, accepting it anyway because they were too good to resist.

"You've lost weight."

"At this rate I'll gain it all back."

"Good," he grinned. "The messes you keep getting into, you need to be strong and healthy."

She smiled. It was good. Right now, this moment. Being back here where she was more at home than she'd ever been anywhere else.

He finished the last bit of his third taco and stared at her, watched her eating hers.

"Kate?"

"Huh?"

"Stay home tomorrow. Let me have one more day with you, since we wasted this one."

The way he said, it, voice low and husky, half pleading; her natural instinct was to agree. God knows it's what she wanted. She figured it might take three days locked in a room with him just to start taking the edge off how much she'd missed him these past two months.

"I-"

"I know. Vikram. You have to find his killers."

"It's more than that."

"Like the people out there that still want you dead?"

Heat flushed her face and Kate put down the last bite of her taco, appetite suddenly gone. She couldn't meet his eyes either. Until she felt his hand under her chin, forcing her too.

"I'm sorry - that's not how I meant to spell it out."

"It's the truth."

"I'm scared, Kate," he admitted. "But you know what really terrifies me?"

"What?"

"You trying to do this alone."

"I had to."

"No," he agreed and she caught a flare of anger in his eyes again. "You didn't."

"Couldn't risk losing you."

"Do you ever think that I couldn't stand to lose you either? It was stupid, Beckett. Reckless-" he added and she didn't deny it. Let him vent his anger. "And it hurt like hell."

"I know."

"Kate-" He let go of her chin and she yearned for his touch again the second he did. "I'm so in love with you. There's not lot I won't forgive you, but I don't think I could stand it if you left again. Not like that."

She nodded, as solemn as he was. She wanted to tell him it would never happen again. But it would be a lie. Because she knew she'd always do whatever it took to keep him around and alive. That she'd rather hurt him and cut him out of her life if that's what it took. She'd already lost one person who meant the world to her and there was no way she could survive another loss like that. No matter what he thought and said, Kate Beckett was firmly convinced that the world needed Richard Castle in it. So much more so than it did Kate Beckett.

Besides, she'd find a way to go on, as long as she knew he was safe and alive. She'd die if he wasn't.

"Kate?"

She slid off her barstool and leaned over the counter to kiss him. "I love you."

"I mean it-" he pressed, after she let him come up for air. "I won't forgive you if you do this again."

"I mean it too," she told him, inching her arms around his neck. "I love you." She wanted to kiss his fears and doubts away. "I'm not going anywhere, Castle."

"Stay home tomorrow."

"Okay."

 _"Okay?_ Just like that? _"_

His shock and surprise made her happy. For once this week she, who'd done a lot of taking, could give him something in return.

She knew that she really shouldn't. But it was one day. For him. The precinct wouldn't fall apart if she was away for one more day.

Castle was kissing her now. Deep and hard. Lifting her up when she struggled to stay at his height while standing on her bare toes. His eyes creased in contentment after he let go. "It's gonna be a good day, Beckett."

* * *

 _Later_

It was only a couple of hours in and it was already a good day.

They started off on the couch, watching a movie after their late dinner. But then the glare of the screen started bothering her; brought back her headache, and Castle chided himself for letting her talk him into it to begin with. It wasn't even a good movie.

He turned if off and they both retreated back to the bedroom. Even though Beckett insisted she wasn't tired enough to sleep. Not after they'd slept for hours before dinner.

He lit two candles and turned off the bedside lamp.

"Close your eyes," he told her.

"Can't sleep yet. Not tired."

"Didn't say sleep. I said close your eyes."

"I don't trust you when I have my eyes closed."

Castle snickered. "Good call."

"Seriously. What are you doing?"

"Relax. You'll find out soon enough. They say when you lose one of your senses your others are heightened." Castle ghosted an index finger along her thigh, the goose-bumps on her skin instantly proving his point. Then he pulled out a manuscript from his bedside table. A loose mess of pages, full of typed words scratched out in ink and small, handwritten notes added in pencil along the margins.

Of course Beckett already had her eyes open again. Watched his every move like a hawk.

"What's that?"

"The latest Nikki Heat draft. It's only halfway done and in dire need of further editing but I thought you might like a sneak peek."

"Castle, that's- " Her eyes lit up. "I'd love it."

"Then close your eyes."

"But how can I read it if-?"

"I didn't say you're going to read. _I'm_ going to read it. To you. Now close your eyes."

Beckett's happiness was written all over her face. She was the worst poker player ever. And Rick didn't mind one bit, especially since they only ever played strip poker together. "Okay."

No one had seen it yet and he wasn't entirely content with what he'd written so far, but he knew Beckett wouldn't care. So started reading it to her.

For the most part she kept her eyes closed. Opening them wide on occasion when something stood out to her and she had to tell him. It thrilled him, the way she reacted to the words on his pages. He forgot sometimes that she was a fan of his books long before they became partners.

Nearly an hour later, she was lying horizontally across the bed on her back, at a ninety angle from him, with both her legs draped over his. Her eyes fixated on him.

"Kate?"

"It's not often you do this. I don't want to have my eyes shut to your ruggedly handsome face the entire time."

It was true. He didn't do it often but after tonight he told himself that would change. He never imagined she'd enjoy it so much.

"It'll be terribly distracting, you won't be able to focus on a single thing I'm saying."

She stared up at him with sleepy eyes. "As if. Your story's too good for that."

That's how they'd fallen asleep. Him lying on two massive pillows propped up against the headboard, one of his hands on her leg, fingers curled around her ankle after he set down the manuscript on the bedside table.

Until a ringing sound woke him up. Castle squinted his eyes in the semi-darkness and saw the time on the alarm clock. 6:03am.

Judging from the unfamiliar ring tone it was her new phone. Not his.

He could hear it from across the room, but Beckett, who was usually the lighter sleeper of the two of them, couldn't. She was still out cold.

He pushed her legs off him and could hear Beckett rousing next to him. Her eyes open and alert in only seconds. Cop instincts kicking in.

"Castle?"

"I'll grab it."

 _This better be important,_ he thought, knowing already that it had to be the precinct. Even though she'd called and told them last night that she wouldn't be in until later this afternoon.

He grabbed the phone from the dresser across the room and handed it to her reluctantly.

Was it really too much to ask, to spend half a day with the wife he'd almost lost last week?

He sat down on the bed, where she'd pulled herself up onto the pillows that he'd fallen asleep on and listened to her end of the conversation.

 _"You found the murder weapon- but that's great news, Javi."_

 _"What do you mean it's not?"_

 _"That is - that's not possible. It's not. I didn't...there's no way!"_

Then there was a long moment when she didn't say anything. When the colour slowly started draining from her face.

"Okay." She barely spoke the last word aloud before disconnecting the call. White as a sheet now.

"Kate?" Castle looked at her with concern.

She looked right through him with blank, terrified eyes. "Javi called to warn me. He called to tell me that...there are two detectives on the way here to arrest me for the murder of Vikram Singh."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI**

 _Castle residence, NYC_

Castle was still sitting up in their bed, staring at her in shock. Beckett caught him pushing his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Testing to see whether this was real and not a nightmare.

"I- Kate, I don't understand. Why would they arrest you for Vikram's murder?"

"Espo told me they found the knife Vikram was stabbed with, in a dumpster, three blocks from his apartment. My prints were all over it."

"How is that possible?"

Kate sat on the edge of the bed, thinking furiously. Trying to put the pieces together. "You told me yesterday that I should question why they stabbed Vikram. Why they didn't shoot him up with heroin and dump him in the same alley as me." She turned to her husband. It was starting to make sense. "You told me to look for the story."

"I did but this-"

"It's all in the timeline, Castle." It was all dawning on her and Beckett wanted to kick herself for not making these connections sooner. "Vikram's time of death window was during the time as I was kidnapped. You said they found sedatives in my blood at the hospital, along with the heroin. They killed Vikram, then they kidnapped me and knocked me out with a sedative, allowing them to put my prints on that knife. That's the story."

"Why?" Castle questioned. "Why try and frame you for a murder if they were going to kill you?" He'd pushed himself over to her side of the bed as if he had a sudden need to be as close to her as possible.

"Because they wanted to destroy my reputation at the same time." Beckett leaned into him, suddenly conscious of the fact that this might be their last time in bed together. "And I made it so easy for them. I left you without an explanation. I didn't tell anyone why I was staying with Vikram and what we were working on. My behaviour was so strange and out of character in the weeks leading up to my "death". How easy would it be to craft a story of me having a mental break down? Or an affair? Or getting caught up in drugs or ...all of the above." Beckett pressed a palm against her forehead before she gave Castle a sombre smile. "The crazy rogue cop who never got over her mother's murder and finally snapped. Isn't it a great story?"

"No," Castle shook his head and grabbed her arm. "It's not. It's full of conjecture, inconsistencies and in serious need of a different ending. No one who knows you is going to buy any of this."

"It's not even the first time they've tried this-" _That_ realization dawned on her now too. "When Bracken sent his goons after me at the motel. They force fed me alcohol and some pill and made me point my own gun at my head. They wanted to make it look like I killed myself after downing half a bottle of whiskey."

"They didn't succeed then and won't this time either."

" _Rick?"_

Something else was starting to sink in too. That there were detectives on the way to the loft to arrest her. That it didn't matter what people thought. It's the evidence that mattered. The murder weapon with her prints all over it.

"What are we going to do?"

Kate bit her lip. His uncertainty was one more thing that sent goose bumps along her arm. Richard Castle who always had madcap theory up his sleeve even when there was absolutely nothing to go on. But not this time.

"Kate-" He hesitated. "If you want to run. I'll come with you. I know someone who can get us papers, who can-"

She put an index finger on his lips. Beckett loved him for considering it even if it was insane. "Are you crazy?"

"So, what then? We wait until they come here, slap some handcuffs on you and drag you down to the precinct?"

"Yes. I should get dressed. They'll be here soon." Kate told him, her voice sounding far away to her ears.

It was why Esposito had called her, after all. So she wouldn't be caught off guard and dragged to the precinct in her pyjamas. This was her friend looking out for her, making sure she'd enter the precinct as a captain. With dignity. Even if, technically, she should be suspending him for it. Not that she would, even if that kind of leniency was her biggest problem right now.

Esposito did it because he trusted her not to run and she'd sooner face prison than betray that trust. It was his way of saying he was still on her side. In spite of the fact that he was pissed with her.

 _I owe you one, Javi._

"I can't believe any of this..." Castle was pale and shell-shocked.

Beckett forced herself to pull away from him. To pull herself together and get dressed. "I might need your help in a big way, Castle. If I'm not able to find out who killed Vikram, will you help the boys?"

"Yeah...of course," he mumbled in disbelief, staring up at her, his fingers still coiled around her wrist, releasing it reluctantly as she made her way out the bedroom.

* * *

 _Later_

Kate wasn't ready by the time the two detectives came knocking on the door, but Castle was. He'd skipped the shower and slipped into a shirt and dress pants.

He recognized the two detectives from the 12th. Hansen and Fung. They were an odd pair. The jaded, white-haired Hansen next very-young and very-eager Fung.

He vaguely remembered Beckett commenting on their partnership to him during a stake-out.

 _"It was Gates' idea,"_ she'd told him. _"Not sure if it's brilliant or crazy. Hansen's old school. If he used to care, he sure doesn't anymore. He's basically hanging around for his pension and he hasn't been shy about letting us know what he thinks about having a woman who used to work IA as his boss."_ She'd grinned and offered him a candy. _"And Fung, she's hardcore. She lives and breathes police work. At her rate she might be his boss before he retires."_

He'd accepted her offer of the strange flavoured hard candy. _"Nah...I don't think so."_

 _"How come?"_

 _"I think you'll be the next captain, Beckett. Not Fung."_

Of course he'd been right. Because sometimes being an outside observer had its benefits. It meant he saw things that the cops at the precinct didn't because their observations were clouded by their jobs and by all the rank and file and politics that he didn't care about.

For instance, he was pretty sure Beckett had no idea that Fung had a crush on her either. Because when they talked shop, Kate always paid attention to what she was saying, not to the way the young woman looked at her.

"Is your wife home?" Hansen asked. "We came here to see her."

 _"Your wife."_ Not the Captain. Castle didn't miss the intentional slight from the old detective, who was probably as unimpressed to have another female captain as he was with the first one. Even if Beckett wasn't transferred over from Internal Affairs like Gates had been.

"She is," Castle answered pleasantly, grateful for the acting skills he was still capable of harnessing courtesy of his mother. "Getting ready to head into the 12th actually. Is there something I can help you with, detectives? Can I make you a coffee while she gets ready?"

Fung barely made eye contact. She was clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. Even more so when it was padded with his unexpected hospitality.

"No, thanks," Hansen told him. "We'll wait for her right here."

"Is there a reason you're here to see her?" Castle pressed, wondering if they had the guts to tell him why they were really here before Beckett stepped into the room.

"We need to talk to the captain about the Singh homicide," Fung told him.

"Talk?"

"We're here to arrest your wife," Hansen spat out. As if the old man gave a damn about diplomacy. Castle could've sworn there was joy on the man's hardened face. He wanted to slap it off. He had to use a lot of willpower to fight back the urge.

Maybe they could arrest them both then. Beckett for murder and him for assault.

"Arrest?" It wasn't hard to act shocked because he still hadn't fully digested it.

 _They're arresting Kate for murder._

"There, uh-," Fung mumbled. "There was new evidence uncovered. We need to talk to the captain about it."

"I see." His mouth was suddenly dry. Ridiculously dry. "I think I am going to need that coffee. You two let me know if you change your mind."

Castle started brewing a cup, glad that the commotion so far hadn't woken Martha or Alexis. He wasn't ready to explain this to them yet.

And he also wasn't ready for his wife to walk into the room and take his breath away.

He wasn't sure how she'd done it but somehow Beckett found the time to straighten her long hair, put on a little more make-up than usual and step into the room in a gorgeous baby-blue dress that he'd never seen her in before. One that nearly matched the colour of his eyes and made for a stunning canvas against her dark hair. Judging from its cut the dress should have hugged her skin more tightly than it did. But if it came from her closet here, she'd probably bought it over two months ago, when she wasn't quite as thin.

Even so, it reminded him that his wife was an absolute knock-out and suddenly Fung wasn't the only one who couldn't take her eyes off her.

Beckett's attention turned to the two officers in their living room. "Detectives? Is there a reason you're here in our living room at seven in the morning?"

"We're here to arrest you for the murder of Vikram Singh," Hansen announced with lightning speed, as if afraid that Fung might deprive him of the pleasure and utter the words before he got the chance.

"What?"

The older detective pulled out his handcuffs but Fung stepped in. "I don't think..."

Castle watched Beckett trying to rein in her anger. "That won't be necessary, Detective. If you need to question me, I'll come voluntarily, you know that."

But Hansen wasn't deterred. "Murder's a serious charge, Beckett. We don't make except-"

"It's the _captain_ , Barry," Fung cut him off.

"I don't think she will be by the end of the day."

"I hope for your sake that's the case, Hansen," Beckett shot back.

Castle couldn't help a grin of pride. _Zing._

Kate slipped into a pair of very-high heels and grabbed a suit jacket that matched her pale blue dress. "I'm not armed, Detectives, and I can't go very fast or far in this outfit."

"I'm not sure that's the truth, Captain," Fung replied. "I've heard otherwise. But you're right, there is no need for handcuffs."

Castle wanted to kiss this good cop. Even if she would rather be kissed by his wife.

"This is crazy," he told them. "All of it. I'm calling my lawyer."

"Babe-" Kate cut him off. "Let me clear this up at the precinct. There's a mistake. Whatever new evidence they found, doesn't matter. I didn't kill Vikram Singh."

"Not letting them interrogate you without a lawyer," he told her, questioning her state of mind for a moment. She knew better than that. There was no way he was going to let her be fed to the lions and go in there alone. There was way too much at stake.

"We need to go, ma'am," Hansen reminded her. "I think we've given you enough lenience for a murder suspect. For what it's worth, I think your husband's right. You will need counsel."

* * *

 _12th Precinct, NYC_

Detective Kevin Ryan could see the fury oozing from his hot-headed partner, sitting at his desk across from him. Even though he knew him well enough to know that it was never a good idea to bother him in those moments, he wanted to know what the source of it was. Whether it was Beckett's arrest or whether it was because Esposito thought there was actually a chance that she did it.

Because he honestly couldn't answer that question himself right now.

Of course he didn't think Beckett had it in her to kill someone in cold blood.

 _Except it wouldn't be the first time._

He still remembered the nausea that rose in his stomach when they'd found her at Jerry Tyson's hideaway, standing over Kelly Nieman's dead body with a bloody scalpel in her hand.

Of course it was self-defense and of course Nieman was a complete psychopath who was about to hack up Beckett's face. She deserved it. Had it coming. Kevin wouldn't lie and say he wasn't glad that she did it.

 _But still._

They were all trained in hand-to-hand combat and Beckett was good at it. _Really_ good. She could easily take down a guy bigger than her once she freed herself. In other words, she should have been able to subdue Nieman without killing her.

But she didn't. She stabbed that woman to death with a scalpel. Hacked at her god knows how many times, with an object that wasn't intended for killing and...Vikram Singh was also stabbed to death.

"Do you think there's a chance-" His partner wouldn't let him finish his question.

"Chance of what?" Esposito glared at him.

"Beckett."

"That she killed the guy?" Esposito furrowed his brows, the way he sometimes did right before he stormed off in irritation. Or slapped him on the back. "Have you lost your mind? Hell no."

"The evidence they found-"

"What? That knife?" Esposito cut him off a second time. "You really think Beckett is stupid enough to kill a guy with a knife and then dump it three blocks from the crime scene, in an area that she knows forensics is gonna go through with a fine tooth comb?"

"So that's your argument?" Ryan shot back. "That if she'd done it, she would have been smarter about it?"

"Hell, yeah."

Was that supposed to reassure him? "So we'll just ignore that the only thing on that knife are his blood and her prints?"

"Bro, what the hell is wrong with you? This is a set up. It's so stinkin' obvious I can't believe the NYPD is buying any of it."

"Have I mentioned the knife with Singh's blood and Beckett's prints?"

"You're kidding right?" Esposito moved closer to his partner and lowered his voice. "Besides, I called to warn her about the arrest."

Ryan did a double take. "You did _what_? Are you trying to lose your badge?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" Esposito frowned. "I'd never have done it if I thought for a second she was guilty. If I thought for a second she'd run."

"Wow-." Ryan leaned back in his chair, incredulous. "I can't believe-"

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Esposito questioned. "You think I could kill someone in cold blood too?"

"I think..." Ryan weighed his words. Because unlike his partner, that's what he often did. Think too long and hard about everything. "That in the wrong circumstances, we're all capable of it."

Ryan didn't think his partner could furrow his brows any deeper but clearly he was wrong. He also should have known better than to think Esposito would even consider that Beckett was capable of murder.

Esposito was blindly loyal to Beckett. Always had been. The two of them had a strong connection that he'd never quite understood, one that was forged by a mutual stubborn and reckless streak. Sometimes Ryan wondered whether the two of them had a thing, long before she married Castle. Whether his partner still carried some sort of torch for her.

If Beckett went off the rails, Esposito would follow her. No questions asked.

Ryan wasn't entirely convinced that Beckett would do the same for his partner and sometimes that bothered him.

"I'm just sayin', I'm not the only one who's wondered about her lately. She leaves Castle before they're married a year. Moves in with our IT guy. Next thing you know, we find her in an alley shot full of heroin. Is it really that much of a stretch to think that-"

"She could stab a guy to death? Yeah, it is. It's a stretch."

Ryan pursed his lips. Clearly this was pointless.

"Look," Esposito's irritation softened. "I get it. She hasn't been herself lately. But you saw Castle at the hospital with her. She's back at the loft with the guy. He's here with her at the precinct right now, along with some high-priced lawyer that she'd never be able to afford on her own. You think he'd be doing all that if his wife had left him to bang a co-worker?"

Ryan winced. The thought of their Captain sleeping around and cheating on her husband, _on Castle,_ was disturbing to him on a whole other level. Maybe he really was still a Catholic schoolboy at heart, but he couldn't imagine stepping out on Jenny. On the mother of his children. It wasn't just wrong, it was sacrilege.

"Castle's not the most objective person around. The guy's crazy about her."

"Seriously? You think the guy's gonna sit at her bedside all night if he believes she cheated on him? No way, bro."

"Okay, maybe not." Javier had a point. Blinded by love or not, Castle was still a man and still had his pride. They'd all seen his defenses go up whenever he thought Beckett slighted him. "So if this is a set up, then why?"

"She's involved in something. Something big that she hasn't told anyone about. Maybe not even Castle. Maybe-"

Ryan could see his partner's mind working.

"Maybe it's _why_ she left him," Esposito suggested as if the thought suddenly occurred to him. "To protect him from whatever she's involved in."

Truth was, Ryan could actually see her doing that. Beckett could be reckless when it came to her own life, and he wasn't convinced that she always had Espo's back but _Castle_? He didn't doubt for a second that she'd take a bullet for Castle. The guy meant the world to her. She'd do whatever it took to keep him safe.

Maybe Esposito wasn't as biased as Ryan thought. Maybe he was on to something. "Maybe it's time she filled us in," he added out loud.

"Considering that Gates is in there questioning her on a murder charge." Esposito frowned and took a sip of the latte he made with Castle's coffee machine. "Could be too late for her to come clean."

* * *

 _12th Precinct, Interrogation Room_

Castle watched the interrogation unfold in front of him, wishing he were inside the room instead of standing behind the one-way glass mirror.

Because if he was inside the room, he could personally muzzle Beckett every time she ignored his lawyer's instruction not to comment.

God she was infuriating.

And meanwhile, Iron Gates was unrelenting.

"Have you seen this knife before?"

"No."

"Do you have any idea how your prints ended up all over it?"

"My client has no-"

"I have some idea," Beckett pointed out.

"And that would be?"

"You know I was drugged and kidnapped the night of Vikram Singh's murder. I suspect my prints were put on it that night. Without my awareness."

"What I know, Captain Beckett, is that Vikram Singh's time of death is between 5pm and 7pm on the night you were supposedly kidnapped."

" _Supposedly_?"

"There is nothing, no proof and no alibi, to suggest that you didn't inject yourself with heroin and end up in that alley of your own volition three hours after Singh's death."

" _What?_ I was tossed into that alley from a moving van." Beckett fired back. "Not according to me, but according to an eyewitness who was there when it happened!"

"A homeless man that we haven't been able to locate since."

"What?"

A chill ran through his veins as Castle stared through the glass. They _had_ to find Leon, the guy who brought her to the hospital. Unless...

Unless it wasn't possible to find him anymore.

"There are two cameras that could have placed you in the 12th precinct garage at the time of Vikram's murder and both of those cameras were disabled."

"By the people who kidnapped me!"

"Or by someone else, someone who knows exactly where they are and how to disable them," Gates suggested icily.

Castle hated the Deputy Chief for what she was doing. Playing Devil's Advocate. Painting a guilty picture with such ease and reeling Beckett in a little further with every fabricated accusation.

But he understood why she did it. Beckett would've done the exact same thing if the tables were turned. If she couldn't even squirm her way out of a police interrogation how the hell was she going to handle a cross examination by a prosecutor?

"You're suggesting _I_ disabled those security cameras in the garage?"

"Are you suggesting you don't know how to disable those cameras, Captain?"

"Of course I-"

 _Jesus Christ, Kate,_ Castle groaned inwardly. Maybe that blow to the head had affected her ability to think.

" _Mrs. Beckett_!" Castle watched as his expensive lawyer finally justified his fee. Watched him stand up and bang a fist against the table next to his wife. "If you don't stop talking _right now_ , I'm going to leave this room because there is no point to my representation if you insist on shooting yourself in the foot with every word that comes out of your mouth!"

"I'm sorry."

Castle watched Kate mumble a lame apology. Saw the weariness and the frustration written all over her face as she said it.

"This is all wild speculation. None of which you'll be able to prove in a court of law," the lawyer told Gates.

"Except for the murder weapon with her prints all over it," Gates shot back. "No speculation there."

"My client's already been charged with murder. What else are you fishing for?"

"A pre-meditated murder of an officer of the law comes with the death penalty," Gates told him. "This is the kind of lurid case that will bring in exactly the kind of media frenzy that the NYPD doesn't want."

"So what are you offering?" the lawyer asked.

"Confess to the murder. Tell us you did it because you were high or because you had some sort of psychotic break and this will go away after a week in the papers. We're offering an insanity plea. That should take the death penalty off the table."

"No," Beckett answered before her lawyer had a chance, oblivious to anyone else in the room but Gates. She met the Deputy Chief's gaze without hesitation, spoke to her as if there was no one else there. "You _know_ that I'm not insane or taking drugs and I didn't kill Vikram. I am not pleading guilty to a murder I didn't commit."

"How are you so sure?" Gates demanded and for a second Castle caught the conflict on Gates's face. She wasn't enjoying this anymore than he was. "You yourself have no recollection of what you did between 5pm and 8pm that night."

"Because I was attacked and hit my head so hard that I couldn't think straight, before I was pulled into a van and shot up with all sorts of drugs," Beckett said softly. " _Not_ because I killed a friend and colleague in a daze of psychotic rage. You know me better than that, Victoria."

Gates didn't get a chance to answer. There was a knock on the door and LT stepped into the room to hand Gates a thin, blue binder.

Castle watched in trepidation as she opened it, lowered the glasses she'd used to tuck her hair back and read it. What the hell was in there?

"Captain," she said slowly after finishing whatever she had read and closing the binder shut. "I'm glad you brought up the subject of drugs."

Beckett didn't say anything but Castle could feel her tension through the glass.

"We found several prescription drugs in the bathroom of Mr. Singh's apartment."

"Yes. They're Vikram's. He was...diabetic. And-" Castle observed Beckett as she concentrated trying to remember something. "He had a thyroid condition too. He had more than one prescription."

"None of them were for you, Captain?"

"No."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. I mean-" Beckett suddenly remembered something. "Except, the pill. I'm taking birth control. But those pills wouldn't have been in the bathroom."

Her words cut through the air and Castle's memory leapt back two days.

 _"If one day we have a kid, I think we should name her Olive."_

An unbearable heaviness sank into his gut along with the awareness of how _much_ he'd wanted it even though they'd never really talked about it. How improbable it was now. A tenacious little girl with Kate's eyes and his wild imagination.

"After finding the murder weapon with your prints on it, we requisitioned for a copy of your blood test results from Harlem HC. In addition to heroin, there were two sedatives found in your blood. Lorazepam, also known by its brand name Ativan, was one of them."

"And?"

"There were three prescriptions belonging to Mr. Singh found in the bathroom of his apartment but there was also an unmarked bottle of Ativan. Your prints were the only ones on that bottle."

 _Shit._ Castle moved a hand to his mouth.

"You've had a stressful start to your Captaincy, Beckett. There's no law against taking anti-anxiety medication. But it does need to be legally prescribed."

"No comment," the lawyer told her.

"I have no idea where those pills came from. They are not mine," Beckett protested. "I didn't take any anti-anxiety drugs."

"I said no comment," the lawyer glared at Beckett.

"I think maybe you're not as fully aware of the events of the past few days as you'd like to believe. You might want to reconsider the offer that we're making. You've got until the end of the day." Gates pushed her chair back and got up. "In the meantime, we're done here. We have enough evidence for a first degree murder charge. Needless to say, you've officially been relieved of your duties as captain of this precinct effective immediately and permanently, unless a future trial finds you not guilty of your charges."

Castle watched both Gates and his wife, as one straightened her skirt and calmly left the interrogation room and the other exhaled and ran a shaky hand through her long hair before turning to her lawyer.

He couldn't help but glare at Gates when she came out of the room. The Deputy Chief made eye contact with him for only a fraction of a second and Castle could have sworn he saw guilt and remorse in them, before she walked away without a word.

"Yo," Castle heard Esposito, followed by Ryan, enter the room. "How'd it go in there?"

"Not good."

"Was Gates offering anything?" Ryan asked.

"An insanity plea," Castle told him. "Or something along those lines. Basically, she wanted Beckett to confess."

"I hope she didn't," Esposito gritted.

All three of them were staring into the interrogation room, watching Beckett confer with the lawyer before the uniforms would lead her out and take her to detention.

"Castle," Ryan was the one who broke the silence and made Castle realize that he was holding his breath, his entire body tense and coiled tight. Unaware that his hands were scrunched into fists at his side. He still anted to grab Kate and run.

Run and run and run. Until they were somewhere far away where none of this insanity could touch them anymore. Bracken. LokSat. Drug cartels. The hand of the law.

He got her back only two days ago and now he was going to lose her again. He felt like he was suffocating. Like someone had clamped a vice around his heart and was squeezing the life out of it.

"Castle," Ryan repeated. "Is Beckett- is she involved in something? Was she working on something with Vikram?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think it's time she let us in on it?" Esposito questioned angrily.

"I think-" Castle kept staring through the window, at his wife in that gorgeous light blue dress. "That it's already too late."

He moved to the door and stepped inside the interrogation room. "Kate."

She got up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I messed up."

He returned her embrace, his lips feathering a kiss onto her neck. "It's okay."

"It's not."

He let her pull away but didn't let go entirely, his arms still around her waist. "What happens next?" he asked his lawyer.

"Your wife will be detained until we have a hearing."

"What about bail?"

"In a murder charge, Castle?" Kate looked at him, knowing that he knew the answer to this question thanks to all his meticulous research. "It'll be ridiculously high, if they even set it."

"If I can pay it-"

"No." Beckett shook her head. "Not an option. I won't let you."

"You're my wife, I should have some say in this."

"You are _not_ gutting your savings, your family's future, _our future,_ to post bail. No way. Not happening, Rick."

"Kate-"

"Not up for discussion."

" _Kate_." It was a plea this time.

"I will fight this because I'm not guilty. The truth will come out, Castle. I know it."

"And in the mean time what? You go to jail?" The panic was starting to seep deep into his bones. "Fucking Rikers, Kate? Where any cop, _never mind a captain_ , is basically fresh meat?"

A hint of a smile raised her lips and her hand strayed to his chest. "I'll be fine, babe. I'm sure they don't want the bad press of a dead captain on their hands."

"Don't you joke about this," Castle swallowed. The thought of grabbing her and running was still in the back of his mind. He was willing to bet money they could both outrun the two uniforms standing outside the interrogation room about to handcuff her and take her to prison. Esposito and Ryan might even hold back the officers for them.

Her fingers fisted his shirt, bunching up the fabric in the palm of her hand. "It's gonna be okay."

He pulled her a little closer while trying to pull himself together. Making her feel less terrified about this was his job, not hers. "Shouldn't I be saying that?"

"Go on then," she told him. "Say it. Because it's true."

"It's gonna be okay, Kate."

"I know." She tilted her head back and welcomed the deep, hard kiss he gave her. Kissed him back just as roughly, oblivious to the lawyer standing next to them.

Then Beckett took off her wedding ring and gave it to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't want to risk losing this," she explained. "Hold on to it until I get out?"

"No," he gave it back to her, knowing what it meant to her. Needed her to have a tangible piece of him and to stop being so damn afraid of losing him. "If you lose it, I'll get you another one."

For once she didn't fight him. Slipped it back onto her ring finger instead. "You better."

"Promise."

Beckett let the uniformed officer put the handcuffs on her wrists and lead her out of the interrogation room without looking back.

It was a lie, he thought. It wasn't okay. None of this was remotely okay.

His wife almost died last week. Going to prison for the foreseeable future was not okay.

All of it drained him and he had to sit down.

Both Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan made their way into the room, and Ryan sat down across from him.

"What do we do now?" Castle asked them both.

"We get her out by finding the sons of bitches that killed Vikram," Esposito answered, his lips drawn in a thin, determined line.

Ryan was sombre but he agreed. "We will, Castle. But we'll need your help."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII**

 _Benton's Steakhouse, Washington DC_

 _One week later_

The judge cut through the meat with his razor sharp steak knife, delighting at the ease with which it slid through the dead flesh. The menu wasn't kidding. It really was as soft as butter, no matter how you ordered it.

He'd ordered his steak blue.

Blue was rarer than rare. It meant it was cooked less than a minute on each side, on a searing hot surface, leaving it with a cold, raw centre that was juicy and full of flavour. It was how steak was meant to be eaten, even though only a handful of restaurants these days dared to serve it like this, thanks to the nanny state they now lived in, where paranoia over e-coli was considered more important than his right to order whatever the hell he wanted when he was paying over a hundred bucks a plate.

A disgusted little frown appeared on the face of the man sitting across from him when blood began to pool under the judge's steak as he cut into it.

It amused the judge.

He hated the pretentious European, LokSat's right hand man, with every fibre of his body and he hated that he was under the man's thumb. So much so that every tiny gesture of rebellion felt like a victory, however petty it was.

"She was arrested yesterday," the man said as he dipped into his bouillabaisse. "Finally."

"It was only a matter of time. We handed that case to the NYPD on a silver platter. The knife, the pills, the needle, even that inept police force had to make the connection and force itself to look in the mirror."

"Good," the European wiped his lips after nearly every bite. It was disgustingly effeminate. Made the judge cringe.

"We can have her commit 'suicide' at Rikers within a week or two," the judge told him, slicing off another piece of bloody meat. He hadn't touched his side order of asparagus and garlic mashed yet. Or the tall glass of Budweiser sitting on his side of the table. "We have enough connections there."

The European took a dainty sip of his ridiculously expensive red wine. "Not necessary."

The judge stopped chewing. "What do you mean?"

"It's unnecessary. It's begging for some crime reporter to start sniffing around and turn this into something bigger than it needs to be."

"Keeping her alive is a liability," the judge pointed out. "All they have to do is put doubt into the heads of a jury and she walks. Have you forgotten that this is the same woman who brought down Bracken and Lazarus?"

"What are the chances she walks with all that evidence? Even if she does, she's a disgraced cop with no evidence, no nothing. We removed all the threads they started tying together from that man's apartment."

The judge considered the question. "There's no motive."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Her chances of walking are slim. Incredibly slim."

"She will be sentenced to life in prison at the very least and more likely she'll get the death penalty, isn't that correct?"

"Yes, but it's not enough," the judge protested. "We should put her away for good. Now."

"It's not your call," the European reminded him. "It was a group decision and it's been decided that the risk of eliminating her is greater than the risk of letting her stay alive behind bars."

The judge exhaled, losing his enthusiasm for the meat on his plate.

"Besides," the European added with barely veiled disdain. "You've had your chance to put her away for good and we all know how that went."

* * *

 _Castle Residence, NYC_

"That is not possible," Richard Castle was pacing now. Circling the space between his desk and Beckett's like a lion in a cage. "How is that possible, Ryan? You know that's not hers!"

The fact that Kevin Ryan didn't sound absolutely one-hundred percent convinced that it wasn't hers made him nearly as angry as the news that Kevin gave him.

"It was planted, like the pills in the bathroom!"

Ryan told him he knew and he said all the right things to try and get him to calm down, even though it was neither convincing nor calming.

He managed a garbled "thanks for letting me know" before he ended the call, wanting to strike the first thing he saw after hearing about this latest blow.

" _Dad_?"

Castle spun around and swallowed his anger. "Pumpkin," the term of endearment got caught in his throat and of course Alexis could tell that something wasn't right with one look at his face.

"Is everything okay?"

 _Everything's fine,_ is what his brain told him to say. It's what he'd told her ever since she was old enough to understand what the words meant. Actually, he did it even before then. When he'd held her in his arms as a teething sixth-month old and he really didn't have a clue whether it would be fine. What the hell did he know about teething? It wasn't something he'd ever researched and his wife had been no help because she hadn't been home in days.

It's what he told her when she fell off that cute pink bike with the training wheels. When she'd cried herself into hiccups on her first day of kindergarten because she didn't want him to leave her there.

 _Everything's fine, Pumpkin._

Even when it wasn't he knew he'd find a way to make it so. Because she was the one thing he wasn't going to screw up. Because he needed Alexis to know that life was good and that she was loved, even if her mother didn't stick around.

"Dad?"

"No. Everything's not okay."

Alexis wasn't a four-year old with scraped knees anymore.

His daughter's face was a mask of concern. "Was it the phone call?"

"Ryan called to tell me about a new piece of evidence."

"What kind of evidence?"

"When they went through Vikram's garbage, they found needles. It was expected, because he was a diabetic who needed insulin injections. But they found one needle that wasn't used for insulin. What they did find on it was traces of heroin and Beckett's prints."

"Oh no," Alexis's mouth dropped open. "That's not good."

"No. It's not."

"Dad?" She said his favourite word so carefully.

"Hmm?'

"Do you think she's being set up?"

"I don't think," he told her, sitting down at his desk. He needed to sit down. Needed a glass full of scotch in his hand before he threw something across the room. "I know."

"Dad," her voice is still small. Unusually tentative. "How are you so sure?"

It's the sadness he hears and catches in her pale blue eyes that makes it impossible for him to be angry at the question. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Hears her words echoing in his brain. _"How are you so sure?"_

"I know Kate," he says softly. "Know this isn't her."

"You didn't know why she left you two months ago."

 _Ah._

"Not at the time, no," he admitted.

"But this time you're sure and you know?"

"Yes."

His daughter's was such a mix of emotions. Disbelief, fear, concern. It made Castle want to take her into his arms and repeat the familiar mantra. _Everything's fine, Pumpkin._ Instead, he held out his hand. "Come here," he told her, until she reluctantly moved a couple of steps towards his desk and half-stood, half-sat on the rim, her arms still crossed. Sceptical.

"Remember a few years ago, when I was charged with a gruesome murder that Jerry Tyson framed me for?"

"Of course I remember."

"The evidence against me was staggering. Fingerprints, e-mails, financial records, video footage at jewellery store. Beckett would have had every reason to doubt my innocence. Never mind that we'd only been together a short time at this point."

"But she didn't," Alexis finished for him.

"No," he told her. "She didn't. Because she knew, just like I know now. I know you're only looking out for me, that you don't want me to get hurt and I know you haven't always been Beckett's biggest fan."

Alexis looked sheepish, if he'd exposed a secret of sorts. Just because he'd never brought the topic up in conversation didn't mean he was blind to it. He knew Alexis cared for Beckett too, but he also knew that every time there was the slightest rift between him and his wife, his daughter didn't hesitate to let them both know whose side she was on. Maybe they did need to talk about it at some point, but not now.

"Will you trust me on this?" he asked her. "I might not always know what's going on in Kate's head, but I absolutely know what's in her heart. A part of me's in there too. And you."

"Oh Dad," Alexis moved over to give him a hug. "I do trust you."

He returned her embrace. "Good." He brushed a kiss onto the top of her head. "Because right now she needs all the allies she can get."

"I didn't even ask you how your visit went today," Alexis told him after she eased out of his hug. "It's why I came to see you."

Castle frowned. It was one more thing he didn't want to talk about, because then it might be easier to pretend it wasn't real. A horrible fictional figment of his over active imagination. He didn't want to picture Beckett, complete with a brand new bruise on her cheek, in that grey jumpsuit that swam on her frame. It messed with his mind.

"Is it as awful as all the news reports say? I remember that report I saw on TV..."

"Yes," Castle cut her off. "It is." And the truth was he didn't know the half of it. He hadn't really seen much. It was the trivial things that were daunting. The mind numbing processes involved in giving an inmate a chance to see a person who cared enough to go through it all.

Castle had never imagined that going to see his wife for a matter of minutes could be so complicated. All his previous visits to prisons had been as Beckett's partner and that had been a whole other ball game.

Now he was just another civilian that had to adhere to all the rigid visitation rules. Only three days a week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, with one daily visit at most and a maximum of three visitors at a time. Times were slotted according to the first letter of the inmates' last names.

They'd detained her at Rikers on a Tuesday, which meant she couldn't see anyone until Friday and of course Castle gave that slot to her frantic father who'd come back from his European conference only to find out his daughter's world had collapsed.

So he'd waited impatiently until Saturday for his turn to be herded onto a special MTA bus, followed by the kind of security check that made the ones at an airport feel like a walk in the park. He'd brought her essentials; things like underwear, socks, t-shirts- most of which he had to go out and buy because hardly anything that Beckett already owned met the criteria. Most of it was too colourful. Too sexy.

Castle thought he'd read the rules so well, was so certain that all his items would be allowed in, that when one of the guards banned half of them he almost lost it.

 _"A logo the size of thumbnail on the side of the sports bra makes it prohibited? Are you fu-"_ But he'd stopped himself and reined in his anger at the last second.

Because the only thing worse than seeing half his items, things she desperately needed, being refused because he hadn't been careful or diligent enough when reading the rules, was the possibility of not getting to see her at all.

Castle had a feeling he'd come very close to that possibility today, in that moment with the overzealous guard. He'd wanted to kick himself for all of it. For his rage and his carelessness. And he wanted to kick someone else by the time he'd finally gotten close enough to touch her, to run his thumb along the yellowing bruise on her cheek, underneath the watchful eye of yet another guard.

 _"What happened?"_

 _"It's..."_ She'd shaken her head. _"It's nothing. It was...stupid. That's all."_

 _"Kate?"_

 _"Don't wanna talk about it."_ And then she gave him a familiar grin. The kind that was usually reserved for absences, when he'd leave for a few days on a book tour and then surprise her by coming home early. It was the kind of smile that lit up her entire face and made him forget how terrible she looked. _"You know, it was great to see my Dad yesterday but it's really, really nice to see you, babe."_

It made his heart soar and broke it all at once.

How could he explain all that to Alexis?

"Dad," her voice brought him back to the present. To the loft and away from the misery of Rikers Island.

"Is she okay?"

"She's hanging in there."

Alexis nodded. Pensive. "Good. Next time you go, will you give her a hug from me?"

He'd go back there tomorrow, go through the awful five-hour process again, along with Esposito and Ryan. Tomorrow they'd talk business. Today was just for the two of them.

Castle mustered a smile. "Absolutely."

She held out her hand. "Come on."

"We going somewhere?"

"Kitchen."

"Why?"

"Because I'm making you pancakes." Alexis wrinkled her nose. "You need some food to go with that scotch and something to make you feel better. Pancakes always did the trick for me. I figure it's about time that I returned the favour."

* * *

 _Rikers Island, New York City_

 _Two Weeks Later_

By now he was familiar enough with the visitation procedures that Castle didn't bat an eye when the correctional officer gave him the usual over eager pat down. He pretended he was at JFK, on the way to that honeymoon in Bora Bora that they never got around to taking.

The indignity of having a hand that didn't belong to his wife feeling up the side of his crotch was nothing compared to how hard it was to go into that communal room and see Beckett look at him with barely concealed hope and expectation and then have to tell her once again that they had nothing.

No new leads. No new evidence. Nothing.

Never had there been a case where he needed to come through as much as this one and never had been as useless. The plucky sidekick didn't have a single theory that turned up anything in nearly three weeks.

There was a new development a week ago but like all the others it only cemented the case against her. Apparently one of the orders to disable a traffic cam had come from within the Twelfth Precinct itself. Although the call hadn't come from Beckett's cell, a local controller insisted the command came from the Captain. Or at least a woman who said she was after giving him a badge number.

Trace or no trace, the accusation alone was damning enough.

After being assigned a circular table, Castle easily spotted his wife in a room full of identical grey jumpsuits as she was released into his direction.

He engulfed her in a massive hug as soon as she was close enough.

Hugging and kissing were only allowed briefly at the beginning and at the end of each visit. One more rule he now knew by heart.

He held on tight, letting her bury her face underneath his shoulders. Beckett didn't smell like that fragrance he loved so much anymore, but like the prison itself. Cheap glycerine soap and mouldy walls, mixed with grease, grime and human sweat.

Castle didn't care. He pulled her closer still.

Until he heard her gasp.

" _Kate_?" He let go as soon as she did. Caught the painful wince on her face that was there for only an instant before she stood on her toes to give him a chaste kiss.

"Miss you," she whispered into his ears.

"Hey...what'd I do? You okay?"

"Yeah." Long, slender fingers cupped his jaw. "More than okay now."

She smiled to reinforce her words, even though she sat down gingerly after they finally let go of each other, one arm wrapped around her waist. She caught him observing her and probably slid both her arms across the table just to assuage his concern.

Castle swallowed his anger. He wanted to know and yet he didn't. Knowing what caused her latest bruises would make it even harder to go home and leave her behind. Not knowing would keep him up at night while his wild imagination conjured up an endless array of equally nasty scenarios.

Knowing. Not knowing.

He could never decide which one was the lesser of two evils.

Her fingers weaved through his. "Hey." Her narrowed brows told him that she clearly caught the look of torment on his face. Of course she did. She noticed everything. "I'm really okay. Stupid misunderstanding with my cell mate."

"Another one? What happened?"

"She accidentally shoved me into a wall and then I accidentally shoved her back. For what it's worth, she's in a lot more pain than I am. She's either going to respect me now and leave me alone, or she'll kill me next time."

"What the hell..."

Her lips twisted into a lop-sided smile and he caught a trace of amusement in her green-brown eyes. Gallows humour. "I'm kidding," she assured him. "No plans of dying in this shit hole, Rick."

Goosebumps rose along his arms. "Not funny."

She grabbed his forearm and gave it a squeeze. "I mean it. Don't worry about me. I can hold my own in here."

His own fingers snaked around her arm, sliding down to her wrist, where his fingers met when they coiled around it. He felt the jut of her bone pressing against the flesh of his fingers. She was still scary thin because his plan to put some curves back on her got thwarted after only two days back at the loft. The dark circles under her eyes told him she wasn't getting any more sleep than he was. Then again, how could she in here?

"Come on. Stop moping. It'll be okay."

"Don't." He choked down his guilt. This was so wrong. Beckett wasn't supposed to try and cheer him up. That's why he was here. Not the other way around.

"Don't what?"

"Don't try and make me feel better."

"You want me to make you feel lousy?"

She scrunched her face a bit when she said it, mildly amused, and it made her look young and adorable. It soothed his guilt and made him want to kiss her. "Idiot," he mouthed back with a reluctant smile.

"How are Martha and Alexis?"

Adorable or not, he wasn't going to let her off that easily. "You're my wife. If I don't get to worry about you, who does?"

"Fine," she conceded. "But in exchange I get to cheer you up. Especially..." She reached out to touch his face but then stopped herself when she saw the glare of a correctional officer. "When you look like you do now, like your pet hamster just decapitated itself after getting its head stuck in the wheel."

He chuckled. Beckett could be so morbid and gruesome sometimes. _"The bloodier, the better."_ He loved that about her.

"Deal."

"Is the preliminary hearing still on for Friday?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Beckett was itching to move on with this. Convinced that the trial would result in her proving her innocence. It was already overdue and delayed. Should've taken place last week.

Castle dreaded it.

For the first time in a long time, he was the pessimist and the realist in the relationship. All he saw when they talked about the trial was the knife with her prints and Vikram's blood all over it. The pills. The needle. The phone call from the precinct. The evidence that kept piling up against her.

The only good thing about the preliminary trial was that it would get her out of this place for a good chunk of the day. Out of the ghastly jump suit and into her own clothes. It meant he could bring her cheeseburgers and milkshakes from Remy's while they consulted with her lawyers.

"Norman got the blood test results, right?"

"He did." Norman Wheeler was her attorney. The guy who'd wanted to strangle Beckett during her interrogation with Gates. Part of their defense would be based on the results of Beckett's blood screen after she was admitted to the hospital following the overdose. They were hoping it would show was that she'd been incapacitated during the entire time of death window. That she couldn't have done it because no one with that amount of drugs in their system was capable of killing anymore. Never mind stabbing a guy bigger than her.

But no matter how closely they dissected it, the results wouldn't provide them with concrete proof. Drug levels were dependant on an individual's tolerance. Some people passed out after a bottle of wine, for others it took five. But Norman seemed to think it was a start and they'd bring in several medical experts to testify on their behalf. Better yet, Jim Beckett agreed. Even though he wasn't a defense attorney he'd been as involved in this case as he could be. Norman wasn't crazy about it, but Castle wasn't about to kick Beckett's Dad to the curb.

He knew what it felt like to be helpless and useless when all you wanted was to be able to do something.

If only they could find the guy who actually saw her getting thrown out of the van in the alley.

But Castle was certain they never would. Even Beckett had given up hope on that front and they both felt guilty as hell for not insisting he get police protection. Thank god that Esposito had taken the guy's statement, because that was worth something, whether or not they were able to find him.

"And?"

"He thinks it can help build us a case."

"Good." Her eyes studied him, with the same kind of intensity they used to have when he'd catch her staring at her murder board back at the 12th. She narrowed her brows. "But _you_ don't think so?"

Sometimes he wished she couldn't read him so well. "Sure I do."

"No, you don't."

God, he was such a jerk. Couldn't he even give her five minutes of hope? How hard was it to pretend, even if he didn't believe it? His mother would be disappointed at his utter lack of acting skills.

Too late now.

"I think-it's flimsy."

"I know that. But all we need is to establish reasonable doubt."

"Not when the prosecution has a smoking gun!"

Beckett leaned on her elbow and rubbed her eyes. "Evidence can be planted. Juries know that."

"Tell me something," he leaned in towards her. "You never mentioned whether these guys said anything to you after they dragged you into that van."

"What does that matter?"

"Everything matters when we've got our backs against the wall!"

"I-" She hesitated. "It was brief, right after they dragged me into the van and before they injected me with something. There was only one guy who spoke to me and...and he taunted me, Castle. Told me what a fool I was to think I stood a chance against them. That I'd end up dead in an alley just like my mother."

"Why haven't you told anyone?"

"Because it's irrelevant," she pointed out. "I didn't see his face. Didn't recognize his voice. Me saying that some guy taunted me before he knocked me out is useless when, right now I can't even get anyone to believe me when I say I went into that garage and got dragged into a van!"

Castle massaged his temple. This wasn't like her. This wasn't the same detective for whom no detail was too small to figure into an investigation.

He didn't understand it but he wasn't going to push.

"I can't let myself think about it, Rick," she admitted quietly. "Going back to the night in the van before I lost consciousness, it gives me nightmares and I can't risk having those here. It'll make me even more of a target."

"Kate..."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." His throat felt dry all of a sudden and he needed a drink. _'More of a target.' -_ what did she even mean by that?

"Castle?"

"Okay, okay."

"I'm telling you because I'm done keeping things from you. But I need you to be okay with the truth."

He squeezed her hand and it gave him the strength to pull himself together. To be strong for her even though it was tall order. "I am. Thanks...for being honest."

"Feel like doing something else for me?"

"Name it."

"Come up with a crazy theory that'll give us a lead in Vikram's murder?"

"I've been trying. You have no idea, sweetheart. No luck so far."

"You told me you had a lot of faith in me. I have a lot in you too."

"No pressure."

Beckett chuckled. "You've come through for me on every case we've ever worked on. My faith is backed by overwhelming odds. It's scientifically sound."

"Isn't that an oxymoron? Scientifically sound faith?" He marvelled at how she kept finding ways to bring him back from the ledge. It was time he found a way to return the favour. "Gonna head to the precinct after I leave here," he told her. "Between me, Ryan and Espo we'll find something. Promise."

"I know."

He spent another fifteen minutes sitting at the table across from her. Filling her in on every day things. Answering the questions she peppered him with about Martha and Alexis and how her Dad was really holding up. How she'd been thinking about getting dog. Maybe a retriever, like Royal. Would he mind if they got a dog?

 _Would he mind getting a dog?_ He'd buy her a whole litter if that meant she was back home.

When it was time to go he gave her one last, gentler, hug. "Love you."

"Love you too. See you in court on Friday?"

"With the dark blue pin-stripe suit and your curling iron?"

"Please. And don't forget the vanilla latte and a bear claw. I've been dreaming about those all week."

He rested his forehead against hers. "It's a date."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII**

 _Rikers Island_

 _Three weeks later_

She was starting to lose hope.

Kate Beckett remembered a statistic that she'd seen at the precinct somewhere, a random number amidst a pile of paper work.

Thirty-eight days.

That was the average length of stay at Rikers. A fair number of detainees were released after their preliminary hearing. Others after a full trial. A good chunk of them were transferred from Rikers only to spend the next few years in another prison. Some of them for the rest of their lives. Others went straight to death row.

That was her likely destination too, according to every news reporter that had an opinion on her case.

The preliminary hearing had come and gone and her trial was still over a week away.

As of today she'd surpassed the average stay at Rikers by one day. Thirty-nine days. Five and a half weeks of trying to stay alive in one piece and it was wearing her down. Everything took so much effort. Not getting her ass kicked every day. Not crying when Castle wrapped his arms around her at the end of his visit. Not letting the guilt consume her when she saw the toll this was taking on her father. Not giving in to the offer of life in prison in exchange for a guilty plea. Not letting the panic creep up on her the way it threatened to do every night.

It was _so_ exhausting. All of it.

And maybe it was all for nothing. Beckett questioned whether it was worth it when at the end of it all she'd have a death sentence hanging over her head. A legally sanctioned one this time.

 _That_ reality always hit her hardest at night (and it was a reality, no matter how much deluded hope she wanted to cling to), when the lights went out and she'd spend endless hours staring at the mouldy ceiling, listening for threats coming from inside and outside her cell. Willing her thoughts to stop racing until neither fear, panic nor the cold that seeped into her bones, were a match for the overwhelming fatigue that always, eventually, pulled her under. No matter how much she fought against it, like she was doing now.

Because that's when she lost control. When she was suddenly transported back to the van.

This time the man was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her skin.

 _"History will repeat itself Captain. You're going to end up dead in an alley like your mother. Because you couldn't help yourself. Couldn't stay away from something that was none of your business. You do realize you've just put the final nail in your father's coffin?"_

The regret was so heavy it gnawed at her insides and scraped away at them.

But she was not going down without a fight. Beckett used every ounce of strength to fight him off but she couldn't move.

Couldn't even breathe.

An invisible noose was tightening around her neck, cutting off her oxygen.

Kate gasped.

The pressure around her neck was so strong it jerked her eyes wide open. From nightmare back into wakefulness.

This time it wasn't a dream.

She was back in her prison cell where her cellmate's livid face was staring down at her. The black eye that Kate gave her yesterday surrounded the woman's orbs in a swirling mass of colours, all in different hues of blue and purple.

But it was hard to focus on the swirl of colours around the woman's eye while her hands were on her Beckett's neck, trying to choke her to death.

"You think you can do what you did and get away with it, bitch?"

Beckett tried to wedge her fingers underneath the woman's grip but it was too tight. Maybe if she hadn't been caught half asleep and completely unaware she'd have stood a chance but as it was it took all her strength to flex her neck muscles and stop the woman from crushing her windpipes.

Beckett wriggled her body under the woman's grip, trying to squirm out from underneath her. To make strangling her more difficult.

But the lack of oxygen made her slow. Sapped away at her strength while darkness was starting to cloud around her eyes.

At this rate she'd pass out in a minute or so. And that'd be the end of her.

Her eyes widened with fury, staring up at the vile woman hovering over her.

 _No fucking way._ The absolute refusal thundered through her brain.

Kate was not going to go like this. She wasn't certain of much of anything lately, but she was _not_ dying here. Not tonight.

She'd promised her husband, after all, and she'd let him down often enough lately. Not this time.

Beckett might not be able to wedge her fingers underneath the ones her cellmate had curled around her neck, but with only a bit of effort she could grab the edge of the woman's pinkie finger. Once she had a tenuous hold on it she could then slowly grab the entire pinkie finger and grasp it in her hand.

Then yank it back.

It was one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body and one of the easiest bones to break.

Consciousness was slipping away from her but in her last coherent moment, Beckett managed to wrap her hand around the woman's little finger and found a reserve of strength that made it possible to pull it back hard enough that it broke.

The woman let go at the same time that Beckett heard the cracking noise. She heard her scream in pain while she pushed herself off the bunk bed and gasped for air. Wheezing as she sucked it in gratefully, like a dying asthmatic.

Her lungs expanded after the first breath of air, starting off an uncontrollable coughing fit.

The woman was furious and came at her again, but this time Beckett was ready. She could block her attacker with an elbow in spite of the fact that she couldn't stop coughing. It hurt like hell to breathe but at least she was. Breathing.

Beckett prepared to block her again when she saw the woman lunge for her a second time.

What she didn't expect was for Janelle, the other woman sharing their cell, who'd ignored every single previous attack against her, to get up from her bunk and hold back her attacker. Janelle, who towered over them both and had to weigh more than both of them combined. She grabbed the other woman's arms and held on to them so hard that Beckett finally got a reprieve. Long enough to allow her to stop coughing and suck in air in a more controlled fashion. She was still wheezing though, like a lifetime smoker whose lungs were failing.

Her attacker was now raging at Janelle, whose grip on her only got tighter. She was using brute force to hoist up her arms behind her back.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You takin' the pig's side now?"

"If you don' stop screaming and a CO comes in here one more time, Imma kill you myself."

Kate watched them both as she sat down on the lower bunk, massaging her neck. Breathing was easier now. It hurt but she wasn't wheezing or coughing anymore. Carla, the fourth woman in the cell was wide awake now too, taking in the scene in silence. Carla had only been here two days and Beckett had barely heard her say a word the entire time. She had giant black eyes that looked shell-shocked most of the time.

"Bitch broke my finger!"

Janelle yanked the woman's arms higher, making her look like a trussed chicken and Beckett couldn't help a smirk. _Karma's a bitch._

"She been here more than a month," Janelle hissed. "One fucking month and skinny white cop bitch is still breathing and you the one screamin'. You the one gettin' beat up. Breakin' your damn bones." A look of disgust crossed her massive black face. "I'm done with this shit. You had your chance. No more."

Janelle rammed the woman's entire body into the wall, making Beckett wince. It surprised her that correctional officers hadn't stormed in here yet. And yet it didn't. Not much surprised her in this place anymore.

"S'over," Janelle warned her one last time. "You leave that bitch alone. You got that?"

She waited until the woman gave her a barely noticeable nod. Then she dropped her body to the ground like a sack of potatoes and calmly settled back into her bunk.

Beckett and Carla stared at each other. Carla's lips even twitched upwards a little, in what almost resembled a smile. One that Beckett acknowledged with one of her own. They watched her attacker writhing on the floor, before slowly curling into the foetal position. She'd probably spend the rest of the night there.

The woman had almost strangled her tonight, but the end result wasn't so bad. Janelle's reasons for siding with her might be completely selfish, but Beckett didn't care. She finally had someone on her side. The constant attacks were going to stop and it would take a little less effort to get through the day tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow.

It wasn't much, but it was worth something.

* * *

 _New York City_

 _Next day_

"Oh no you don't, bro! Not a chance!"

Javier Esposito saw the postal employee about to close the door of the post office while he was still getting out of his car on the other side of the street.

He slammed his car door shut and ran though traffic, oblivious to the horns honking at him, towards the massive building and the Roman columns that flanked it and then he pounded his fist on the locked glass door. The same guy who'd closed the door only moments had already walking away from it, oblivious to Esposito's banging.

"Come on!" Javier yelled through the glass. "It is exactly two minutes to six o'clock! Two minutes before you get to close this door! I have _two minutes_ to pick up my package!"

The man inside the post office pointed to the massive clock on the wall. Showing the time as 5:59pm.

Esposito cursed under his breath. Then he yanked out his badge and pressed it against the glass so the man inside could see it. "If you don't open this door right now, I might go postal."

Seeing the gold badge made the post office worker walk back to the door. He opened it without hiding his irritation. "What can I do for ya, officer?"

"It's not six yet," Esposito told him as he made a beeline for the counter and took out the paper notice the mailman had left at his apartment yesterday. The notice he got three weeks ago after missing his third delivery attempt expired today. Tomorrow they'd send it back where it came from. Back to his _tía_ in Texas who'd call him frantically because she'd wonder what the hell was wrong with him. Whether he'd frozen to death in the New York City winter or died in the line of duty.

He couldn't have that. He had to get the damn package.

"What?"

Esposito pointed to his watch. "I have thirty seconds." Except when he finally got to the counter and the woman there gave him the kind of disapproving, irritated eye-roll he used to get from Lanie, he started to feel a bit of remorse.

This wasn't like him. Using the badge like this. Being a jerk and throwing his weight around.

But he'd been so wrapped up in trying to get Beckett out of that godawful prison and had spent every waking moment at the precinct lately, that it had come to this point. Never being home during the delivery times and being unable to find ten minutes of free time to drag his ass here and pick up his aunt's care package.

Truth be told, he was exhausted. He could really, _really_ , use an evening of tequila, _telenovelas_ and those Mexican cinnamon candies that reminded him of happier times.

"Sorry," he mumbled to the Lanie-lookalike as he handed her the delivery notice over the counter. "Didn't mean to be a jerk. But I really need to get this package before goes back to Texas. My _tía_ would never forgive me." He tried for a smile. The kind that used to get Lanie to forgive him a lot of things.

But this woman remained stone-faced as she went to get his package, plopped it on the counter and made him sign for it.

"Nice try. 'Cause that aint goin' anywhere near Texas," she pointed out. "It's from Brooklyn."

"What?" Espo didn't understand. His _tía_ was the only person who ever sent him anything by mail.

He grabbed the package and stared at the return address, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

The package was sent by Vikram Singh.

Javier Esposito's fingers tightened around it, his eyes on the date that was inked onto the corner, above the stamp.

It was post-dated the day before he died.

Vikram Singh had mailed this package to him the day before he died and it had been sitting here, at the post office for over a month.

 _Shit, shit, shit._

Esposito clenched his teeth and tightened his hold on the package. For a second he was unsure of what to do with it. But after a moment's hesitation he ripped it open by tearing away at the seal on top.

There was another package inside the bubble wrap with a type-written note on it: "Contents of this package belong to Vikram Singh. Do not open contents. Direct all contents to Vikram Singh - 12th Precinct." It had Vikram's badge number and the precinct address on it too.

"What the...?"

Esposito tried to open the second package inside, but this one was sealed differently, with an adhesive of sorts that his fingernails couldn't pry open.

"Sir?"

Esposito heard the lady from behind the counter but he paid no attention to her. All his focus was on trying to open the package.

" _Sir_!"

This time her voice made him jump. "What is it?"

"We're closed."

Esposito finally unglued his eyes from the package he was holding and scanned the empty post office. The guy who'd tried to lock the door on him earlier was standing beside it now, giving him the evil eye.

"Alright, alright." He'd get his ass out of here, but where would he go with this? Was it even safe to carry it around outside? Should he try and open it in the car? What if someone had followed him?

Esposito exhaled. He was being stupid. No one was following him. It's probably why Vikram had sent it to him not Castle. _Nearly a month ago!_ The pang of guilt was settling firmly in his gut now. Like a rock.

What if this was important? What if it could help Beckett?

"Sir?"

"Yeah, yeah...I'm leaving. I'm leaving."

Esposito held on to the package tightly as he made his way back across the street and into his car. He locked all door and set it down on the passenger's seat next to him. Then he grabbed his phone and called his partner.

"Yo, Ryan. You gotta meet me back at the precinct. Yeah, now." He got an earful about Jenny being so very pregnant that she was about to pop. How he'd only just left the precinct, late as usual and was nearly home already. That the only time he saw his wife and daughter lately was when he tucked them into bed. "Look- I get it. Sorry, bro. But trust me, you want to see this. I've got something and it could be huge." He didn't want to mention Vikram's name over the phone. "If I hadn't called you about this and told you to come back in, trust me, you'd kick my ass."

Esposito got another earful from Ryan about how this better be good before his partner told him he was coming back into Manhattan. That he'd be at the precinct in half an hour.

Then he leaned back in his seat and called Castle's number next.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter XIV**

 _12th Precinct, NYC_

 _Later_

Javier Esposito made the trip from the post office to the precinct in just over ten minutes and Castle arrived shortly after he did.

"What's going on?" Castle demanded as he sat down at Ryan's desk. Javier acknowledged him with a nod. The guy looked terrible. Like he hadn't slept in days. Or shaved. Judging from the five-day-or-so stubble on his face.

"Grab a coffee," Esposito told him. He had feeling they'd be here for a while and Castle looked like he needed one.

"I didn't come here for coffee. What's going on? What did you find out that's so important?"

"I don't know yet." Esposito held up the package so that the sender's name was clearly visible for Castle to read.

"What the hell?"

"It's dated the day before he was killed."

Castle's tired face turned a few notches paler. "Where did you get that?"

"Post office. It's been sitting there for about a month. I thought it was a care package from my aunt in Texas. She's the only person who ever mails me anything." Esposito could hear the guilt dripping from his own voice.

He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through the thick cardboard only to find another plastic wrap inside the package. A post-it note with hand-written words was stuck on the plastic wrap.

 _Can't be good news if you got this far. Too lazy to write. Open the bag and watch the video on the USB stick_

 _-V_

Javier slowly cut open the plastic wrapping. When it was open wide enough for him to spot the contents, he saw that there were only two items inside, the USB stick that Vikram mentioned and what looked like a portable hard drive.

The elevator door pinged at the end of the room and both Castle and Esposito saw Ryan stepping out of it, hurriedly making his way towards them.

Esposito thought about going into Beckett's office to do this, because it would give them more privacy. But there was hardly anyone in the bullpen. A handful of officers here and there, some of them about to go on patrol for the night shift. A detective sitting at his desk in the corner, doing paperwork.

"I hope you know that Jenny's ready to kill me," Ryan told him breathless, pulling up a chair and plopping himself down on it. "This better be good."

"I think it is," Castle mumbled.

Javier took both items into his hands and stood up. "Let's watch this in the IT room."

"So is anyone going to tell me what this is about?" Ryan grumbled to both of them on the way there.

Once they'd stepped inside Vikram's old work space, Javier closed the door, plugged the USB stick into the first running computer he saw and clicked on the only file that was on it. "Stop whining and watch this," he told Ryan.

Vikram's face popped up on the computer screen.

 _"So, uh..."_ Vikram's eyes focused on the camera in the shaky video, a morbid smile playing on his lips. Everything about the first few seconds of it suggested it was done hastily.

 _"Not sure where to start. I haven't really given it any thought. Okay...lemme just spit it out. I'm making this video because I've had this really bad feeling the last couple of days. Only time I ever felt this before was a few days before my sister died. That's why it scares the shit out of me. If you're watching this, Espo, it probably means I'm in trouble. Big trouble._

 _Might even mean I'm not around anymore._

 _I'm sending it to you, 'cause you always have Beckett's back and I'm not sure I trust Castle's place to not be under surveillance._

 _I've had my suspicions that someone's hacked into my system. It shouldn't be possible, 'cause, and this is probably gonna sound cocky, but I'm really good at what I do and I couldn't verify it and trust me, that's a good thing. If I had, I'd have done more than just make a video and a back up of all my data. I'd probably be running off to Canada or Mexico right now so I can go into hiding for the rest of my life._

 _But I trust my instincts and what they're telling me isn't good._

 _Beckett would tell me I'm an idiot. She doesn't believe in premonitions and stuff like that. But I know better than to ignore it and she's one of the main reasons I'm making this video and sending you the hard drive._

 _I dragged her into the mess. She's investigating this because I literally called her begging for help. I got her shot and now she's staying at my place so we can spend every free minute trying to bring down LokSat. Because she really wants this thing to be over with so she can go back home. She's missing her husband so much it's starting to drive me crazy."_

Esposito caught Castle's eyes watering and he turned away, back to the video, pretending he didn't see.

 _"Beckett tells me I do a crap job of protecting myself, so I wanted to do something that would protect us both, 'cause I'm not exactly Rambo when it comes to guns and martial arts. She's right about that. So I'm gonna protect us in the only way I know how; by using technology._

 _Long story short, I installed a hidden camera at my apartment. If anything happens to me or Beckett at our place, it'll be on a digital feed camera. It's located in the ceiling above the entrance door. Second tile over the door. Most scanners won't detect it, so you'd never find it unless you were looking for it. It covers the living room."_ Vikram paused a moment and chuckled. _"If something happens to us in the bedrooms, we're SOL I guess. But if Beckett ever found out I put a camera in her bedroom, well, then she'd kill me. So that would kind of defeat the purpose. She'd probably kill me as it is but I trust what I'm feeling and if nothing happens in the next few days I think we're good. For now._

 _I really hope I'm wrong and that no one's ever gonna watch this. That you're gonna hand me this package at the precinct and I'll just put it in a safe deposit box. I'll take it with me when I leave the place and the only time I'll open it is when I'm ninety or something, telling my great-grand kids the crazy story of how me and Beckett single-handedly brought down this massive drug ring. Yeah...I really hope that's how this story ends."_

The video ended with that and suddenly they were all looking at a grey computer screen.

Esposito was speechless and Ryan's hand was covering his mouth. "Holy shit."

Castle stared at them both. "Did you hear that? There's a camera in his place. A camera that could have recorded his murder." He was breathless. "You know what that means right? If it did...it'll clear Beckett."

"What if it's on some sort of auto-loop?" Esposito pointed out. "It's been over a month." It nauseated him, the thought that the evidence might be erased because he couldn't get his ass to the post office on time.

"It's been forty-four days," Ryan told them. Esposito had no idea how he did that. Calculated stuff instantly that would take him ages to figure out.

"We have to get that camera out of Vikram's place," Castle told him. " _Now_."

Esposito stuck the USB stick into his pocket and gave the portable hard drive to Ryan. "Castle and I will get it. Call in Tory to have a look at this. This has to be a back up of everything that they were investigating."

"Okay," Ryan agreed but then changed his mind. "No, wait. Let me figure out how to disable the camera with Castle. I'm better at this tech stuff. We can't risk messing it up."

Esposito reluctantly took back the hard drive. He wasn't a sit-back-and-sift-through-evidence kind of guy, but Ryan was right. Of the two of them, Ryan was the tech geek. Javier didn't take any offense at the suggestion that he wasn't. Whatever was on that video camera was way too valuable for them to risk ruining its contents in any way. Beckett's future might depend on it.

"Okay, you two go," he told Ryan and Castle. "But call me as soon as you have it!"

* * *

 _Later_

Castle's hands were sweaty after he got back into Ryan's car. He pressed the button to lower the passenger side window and let in the cold, early November air but his index finger slid right off it.

Because they knew where the hidden camera was, it hadn't taken Ryan long to find it and now Castle held it in his lap on their way back to the precinct, where Tory and Esposito were waiting for them.

"You know who needs to see this with us?"

"Who?" Castle wasn't sure it was even a good idea to bring Tory, their IT expert, into this, but Ryan was terrified they might do some damage uploading the film onto a computer without her expertise on hand.

"Gates."

Castle clenched his lips, not the least bit convinced that it was a good idea. The former captain had never been his biggest fan and his most recent memory of her grilling Beckett in the interrogation room still left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Seriously?" he questioned. "Gates?"

"She's not the enemy," Ryan reminded him. "I know you hate what she did to Beckett after the arrest, but Gates was just doing her job. Beckett would be the first person to agree."

Castle bit his tongue. Right now it was hard to see it that way.

"We need someone above us who's on our side. Someone who knows us and someone who's impartial."

"You think Gates is that someone?"

"Got a better idea?"

Ryan had a point. "Okay," he agreed.

Ryan called her and told her that they'd uncovered potentially explosive new video evidence that she needed to see and surprisingly, in spite of the late hour, it took very little coaxing.

"She's coming to meet us at the Twelfth," Ryan told him. "All she asked is that we hold off watching it until she's there."

Castle exhaled. "Alright."

"Look, if Beckett didn't do this then the video will prove..."

" _If_?" Castle glared at him.

Ryan's cheeks flushed. "Not what I meant, man. Sorry."

Castle didn't say anything. Afraid of what he might say if he did.

If her own former partners questioned her innocence, what the hell kind of chance did Beckett stand in front of a jury?

"Castle." Ryan repeated, meeting his glare with a pair of tired eyes in the rear view mirror. "You know I didn't mean it. It was a slip 'cause I'm running on fumes."

"Okay," he answered, tight lipped.

Castle still didn't believe him.

* * *

 _Later_

Gates wore jogging pants and a hoodie by the time she joined them at the precinct nearly forty-five minutes later. By then Tory had already uploaded the film digitally and Castle was ready to jump out of his skin if they didn't play right this second.

He kept pacing the room, with a cup of decaf coffee in his hand.

Gates gave them all a nod when she entered the room, her expression all business in spite of her casual attire. "Detectives, Tory, Mr. Castle...show me what you have."

Esposito took a moment to explain to a serious looking Gates how they got the package. Took a minute to show her Vikram's video before giving Tory the go ahead to proceed with the camera footage.

Castle didn't notice that he was destroying his empty paper coffee cup. Tearing at it as they fast forwarded through endless hours of footage near the beginning of the tape. An empty room. Vikram eating fast food on the couch. Him and Beckett going over something on his lap top. Beckett staying up several hours later than him, pouring over a pile of file folders, nodding off in the middle of the night, still dressed in her work suit.

Castle swallowed. The fleeting scenes filled him with regret and anger. That he wasn't there, doing this with her. He should've pushed harder. Should've put his wounded pride aside and realized that she was doing something like this. That this was the only reason she'd ever push him away; to protect him. Not because she had marital issues to work out or because he somehow wasn't enough for her. How could he have been foolish enough to think it?

 _I should have known. Shouldn't have let her go and shouldn't have given in so easily._

Suddenly they were within an hour of the presumed time of death on the camera footage and Tory slowed it down. Five pairs of eyes were fixated on the silent screen and they would have heard a pin drop.

Vikram was on the couch, eating take out for the second night in a row and suddenly his head jerked towards the door, the terror on his face instantly apparent.

Whoever had come through had to be pointing a gun at him because Vikram froze and he made no move to grab the gun that was sitting at the other end of the coffee table.

Suddenly four armed figures came into view. All dressed in black. Plants pants, black wool sweaters and black face masks. Clearly male, judging from their size and physique. Three of them holding a gun and the fourth a knife. _The knife._ The one with Beckett's prints on it.

Castle's heart stood still.

Vikram made no move until the man with the knife was within arms reach of him and then he started to fight as if he was aware of what would happen next.

The footage that played next was so gruesome it made Castle's stomach churn.

Vikram's fighting skills were no match for the man in black. The man's first point of contact was a deep stab to the abdomen. Then another into Vikram's thigh.

Tory turned around, unable to keep watching. Her face was whiter than a hospital bed sheet.

Castle closed his eyes for just a moment when he heard Gates gasp and that's when he saw Vikram ripping the man's face mask off his head just before getting stabbed again, in the chest. His movements were so clumsy and lethargic now it was as though the tape was running in slow motion. Blood ran everywhere, down Vikram's torso and into the creases of the sofa.

He'd unmasked the man with his very last breath. Did it so they'd have a face. A Slavic face with high cheek bones and a military-style brush cut. A face that was unmistakeably young, male and unmistakeably not Kate Beckett.

 _Thank you, thank you, thank you._

Castle closed his eyes again, unable to continue watching as that man kept brutally stabbing at a now lifeless Vikram Singh. Not bothering to put his mask back on. Blood poured out of him. He flopped back onto the couch and jerked around like a fish out of water, nerve endings gone wild in a final moment of awareness, and then all his movements ceased.

Castle saw that Tory's eyes were back on the computer screen and this time she put a trembling hand over her mouth before dashing out of the room.

Gates was the one who stepped up to the computer and stopped the footage, while both Esposito's and Ryan's sombre faces were still glued to it. Even the usually unflappable Deputy Chief looked profoundly shaken.

"I think we've seen enough," she announced, her voice hollow. Then she turned to Castle. "The DA needs to see this. So we can get your wife out of Rikers."

* * *

 _Riker's Island, NYC_

 _Later_

Kate Beckett stared at the ceiling above her bunk bed.

She was so tired, her eyes were dry and heavy and grainy. Closing her lids was like running them over sand-paper. She closed them every few minutes, pressed them shut for a handful of seconds and then open them again to resume staring at the ceiling.

It was too quiet in her cell.

She didn't trust the quiet and was true even long before her murderous cell mate tried to strangle her last night. Quiet nights here were always a precursor to something horrible. An inmate being dragged, kicking and screaming, into solitary. An alarm going off and ringing for the rest of the night. The sound of a skull being smashed into a wall during a fight. One of her cellmates groaning in pain or misery.

Beckett would wait until she heard snoring. Or at least the deep, heaving breathing of sleep coming from the bunk below hers before she'd allow herself to fall asleep for an hour or so. It was never longer than that, because something always inevitably woke her up. A cellmate getting up, snoring too loud, noise from the other cells down the hall, the damp cold that made her shiver or the nightmares that were really starting to plague her now. Without Castle around to help her keep them at bay, they were steadily gaining ground on her.

Something always woke her up.

Kate pressed a palm against her forehead in the darkness. She was sore too. Everything hurt. Her ribs ached from the unexpected shove into the wall last week. It hurt her throat to swallow. There was a constant dull throb behind her eyes from the stress of trying to stay alert all the time. From the concussion she still hadn't fully healed from. All of it compounded by a lack of sleep and lack of coffee. Because that diluted, barely-caffeinated, lukewarm brown water they had here certainly couldn't be called coffee.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor made her tense.

It could mean a lot of things. None of them good. A correctional officer stopping by in the middle of the night never was.

The footsteps stopped in front of her cell and Beckett jerked in her bunk when she heard the electronic door slide open. This definitely wasn't good. One of them was getting yanked out of this cell tonight for god knows what reason.

"Beckett!"

The CO didn't turn on the light and she could barely make out his silhouette.

She sat up in the bunk bed. "Sir?"

"Get down."

She did as he asked, not understanding what this was about but knowing better than to ask, or worse, resist. She let the officer cuff her and then yank her onto her feet before he led her out of the cell and down the hallway. Through two more electronic doors and another two long hallways, further and further away from the cells, towards the administrative area.

"Where are you taking me?" She needed to know. This wasn't normal. There were rampant rumours here of COs raping female inmates. The thought sent goose-bumps up her arms. She'd fight him. Even if she was handcuffed, he'd have a hell of a time trying.

"You've been released."

" _What_?"

Beckett didn't understand. Prisoners weren't released in the middle of the night. None of this made sense.

Yet, here she was, going through the motions.

An officer handed her a box containing the same blue dress and heels she'd worn when she arrived. Then he gave her a sealed plastic bag containing her wedding ring and her father's watch. Another officer gave her a half dozen forms to sign after she'd changed out of the grey jump suit and into the dress.

She was dreaming. That had to be it. No matter how real it felt, she was dreaming. Delirious finally from a lack of sleep.

But if she was, she didn't want to wake up. It was the first good dream she had here.

She'd keep going then, Beckett decided. She'd walk out the doors the same way she'd walked in. Not as a number on a jumpsuit, but as Kate Beckett, Captain of the 12th Precinct.

What she didn't expect to after leaving the discharge area was Castle.

Her husband was sitting on a cheap plastic chair, in a pair of jeans. One of her favourite wool coats was draped over his arms. Her Castle, with a smile and a scruffy, five-day beard that Beckett thought was the sexiest thing she'd seen in a long time. She wanted to run her fingers over it. But she didn't dare.

Beckett stood still and stared at him. Not wanting to move an inch because she didn't want to wake up. Didn't want this to end. It felt too good and too real. All of it.

"Kate?" Castle was the one who got up and walked towards her. He put his arms around her the moment he was close enough. Pulled her into his space and kissed her cheek. When she still didn't react he took a step back and tenderly cupped her face in his hands. "Kate, sweetheart, are you okay?"

His hands, they smelled like him. _Felt_ like him. Like real-Castle, not dream-Castle. Warm and familiar and so very, very alive and real.

"Kate, babe, look at me."

"Castle, what is this?" she whispered. "What's happening? Am I going crazy?"

"Didn't the officer tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"That you've been released."

"No." Yes. He did. But this wasn't possible. Prisoners didn't get released at night. Not possible.

"Sweetheart, you're scaring me."

She licked her lips and stared into his face. "People don't get released at night. That doesn't happen. Don't mess with me. Castle, it's not funny. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Hey," Castle's thumb trailed her jaw, lifted it up. "Look at me. Nothing of the sort. Gates pulled some strings. A lot of strings actually."

"Gates pulled some strings?" she repeated the words after him, like an echoing fool.

"Yeah. She thought she owed you one."

Kate hadn't realized that she was crying until she felt Castle wipe away her tears. "This is real?"

He kissed her again. On the lips this time and that jarred her senses. "It's real. I'm taking you home."

"Home?"

"That's right."

"I'm really out?"

"You're out."

The tears were falling hopelessly now and she had to wipe them away because they were clouding her vision. "Out." Beckett took a deep breath and then exhaled. "Oh-." It didn't make sense and once she stopped crying she'd ask him to explain. She needed an explanation.

Castle held up her coat and helped her slide her arms through the sleeves when her clumsy first attempt failed because she couldn't see through her tears.

He tied the belt for her too and made eye contact once more. "Ready?'

Beckett nodded and let him wrap an arm around her waist before they slowly walked out together.

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm planning to go on the road for a bit and taking a short posting hiatus with this story. Big thanks to those leaving kind feedback and thanks for your patience. :)


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Sorry! This hiatus took longer than I'd hoped as work got a bit crazy after I came back from globetrotting. Now that Beckett is no longer behind bars, I have a couple more twists in mind for this story for those that want to come along for the ride. Giant thanks to WRTRD for helping me polish this up. Much needed. :)

* * *

 **Chapter XV**

 _Castle residence, NYC_

Castle had already finished breakfast and downed a second cup of coffee by the time she slowly stepped into the kitchen, looking like she was drunk on too much sleep. Messy, sexy, wavy hair framing her face.

Beckett slinked an arm around him and greeted him with a kiss. "It's noon, babe. You let me sleep 'til noon?"

Castle kissed her back and pulled her close. She was so warm and soft it was impossible not to. "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

A thick strand of hair fell over her eyes and Beckett ran a hand through it with a yawn. "No. Nowhere. I'm free and unemployed at the moment."

Castle stepped over to his coffee machine and poured her a cup. Added a bit of steamed milk before handing her the ceramic mug. She took it with a smile and it reminded him of the countless times he'd done this before. Long before they dated. It's why he did it; for that same smile she gave him now, the kind that used to be able to sustain him for the rest of their day together. This was their ritual and he planned to continue it for the rest of their lives.

"Thanks, by the way."

"For the coffee?"

"For coming to get me last night."

"Last night was all Gates's doing," he admitted. "She arranged the special release and the police escort home."

"You're the one who came to pick me up, not Gates."

"Guess I couldn't let her do everything."

He had told her about Vikram's package and the gruesome video that exonerated her as soon as he had a moment alone with her last night. Of course Beckett then wanted to head to the precinct to see it herself right away. But he managed to talk her out of it by convincing her that Gates had it under lock and key. Instead, he took her straight home, where they had a quiet reunion with Martha and Alexis. Where a warm shower and a single glass of champagne had knocked Beckett out for the next ten hours.

And it wasn't enough.

Over a month in prison had taken its toll her. There was a deep-rooted exhaustion written all over her that would take more than one night of good sleep to erase. But Castle doubted she'd be unemployed for long. Not if Gates had anything to say about it.

"Speaking of Gates," Castle told her. "She called for you this morning. Wants to see you."

"Okay," Beckett took a sip of coffee. "I'll call her back."

"Have breakfast first," he insisted. "Tell me what you want. I'll make it."

Beckett stared at him, suddenly confused. "I, uh...god, I don't even know. Feels like forever since I've had a choice." She lowered her eyes and gazed into her coffee mug. "And this coffee, you have no idea how good this it. It's crazy good. I want to savour it. Want it to last." She was crying now. Out of nowhere.

"Hey." Castle pulled her back into him. Kissed her cheek.

Beckett wiped away a tear. "I don't know where this is coming from, babe. Being back here, you bringing me coffee, asking me what I want to eat, maybe it sounds crazy but it's...overwhelming. Feel like I can't handle it."

Castle thought back to their last visit at the prison. Beckett telling him that she refused to think about the night she was kidnapped because it would bring on nightmares in a place where she couldn't risk having them. She could be so strong when she needed to be, but it had to be exhausting. Even Kate Beckett had her limits and he'd seen first hand what happened when she reached them, like that one time during the sniper case.

Maybe six weeks at Rikers with a death sentence hanging over her head was too much. Maybe the PTSD would rear its head again. Maybe she was headed for a break down. Or maybe not. This was Beckett after all, the most resilient person he'd ever met.

Still, Castle made a mental note to prepare himself. To start paying better attention to any signs she might give him. Signs that everything wasn't okay.

Beckett reached for a tissue from a box on the kitchen pantry and blew her nose. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Apparently prison's turned me into a cry baby. I'll be okay."

Castle planted another kiss on her forehead, and his lips found their way into her messy hair before he ran his fingers through it. Every touch reminded him how much he'd missed her this past month. They'd spent less than a week together in the last twelve. It was criminal and the truth was he hated the thought of her going back to the precinct. Wanted to keep her home and hover over her for a week at least.

"No apologizing for this," he chided her. "Ever. If you're not okay, you don't have to be. You just have to let me in. That's all. We'll make it through this together."

"Right." She nodded and her eyes watered all over again. Beckett gave him a gentle whack on the chest. "Stop making me cry, okay?"

He chuckled. "Deal. Want a smorelette?"

Beckett cringed. "No way. Prison hasn't completely killed my taste buds."

"Fine then. How about pancakes without chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows?" He could take over the decision making for the time being.

"Sounds amazing."

"Coming up."

Meanwhile, she grabbed some fruit from a bowl. "I'll cut up some strawberries and bananas to go with it. You have no idea how much I've missed fresh fruit."

"Go crazy. They're all yours."

When he was finished cooking, Castle took her chopped up fruit and poured them over three small, fluffy pancakes. Added a generous amount of Canadian maple syrup on top. "There's whipped cream too, if you want."

"That looks to die for. And no, no whipped cream. Are you kidding me?"

Kate was already sitting at the kitchen table when he handed her the plate. Castle grabbed an extra fork and sat down next to her because it really did look good and he knew she wouldn't eat it all.

He watched Beckett tackle it slowly, emitting little sounds of pleasure that made him grin. She ate so slowly that he had to slow down, too, before he finished half her meal. Made himself focus on her instead and noticed that she stopped to rub her neck after every few bites, caught her wincing sometimes when she swallowed. Noticing too that her neck seemed swollen and reddish, now that he looked closely.

"What happened to your neck?"

Beckett put down the fork. "Bunk mate tried to strangle me a couple of days ago."

"Jesus Christ, Kate." The thought sent goose bumps up his arm. Killed his appetite and made him set down his fork as well.

"It's okay, babe," she reassured him. "She didn't and she's the one with a pinkie finger the size of a tomato right now."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Not funny. True." Beckett eyed him and put a hand over his. Sad that he was hurting for her. "Just hurts to swallow. That's all."

 _No big deal honey. Fellow inmate tried to kill me last week. It's all good._

Castle clenched the hand that she'd covered with hers. He was so done with her fighting the world on her own. He needed to be her partner again, or else this was gonna kill him. This constant fear of losing her.

He grabbed her plate.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

Castle poured the chopped up strawberries, apples and bananas back into a bowl and then tossed them into a blender. "Gonna make these easier to swallow."

He added some orange juice and a half a scoop of vanilla ice cream and then he turned on the blender until the contents inside were a thick liquid. A bright red-coloured smoothie. He poured it all into a tall glass and handed it back to her.

"Castle," Beckett sighed. "You don't have to baby me."

"Helping you," he corrected her. "You singlehandedly tried to take down a drug lord, then you almost OD'd and died, before being charged with murder and spending six weeks in prison, where someone tried to kill you on a, what? Daily basis? After all _that..._ humour me, Beckett, and tell me what I can do to make your life easier. Because that's what partners do."

Beckett exhaled and suddenly seemed overwhelmed again. "All right."

"Not babying you. Just love you, that's all."

She nodded and blinked. "I know. Love you, too. You have no idea."

"Sure I do," Castle told her. "Now drink your smoothie and eat your pancakes, cry baby."

* * *

 _Later_

Kate Beckett fastened the purple silk scarf around her neck and let it fall over her cream-coloured blouse. That was as formal as it was going to get, she decided, after slipping into a pair of well-worn blue jeans. Gates was stopping by for what she called an informal meeting. It's not as though she was back on duty.

Castle snuck up behind her and Kate caught his nod of approval in the full-length mirror.

"Looking good," he mumbled into her ear.

She wasn't really, but Kate accepted the compliment anyway. He'd always been biased where she was concerned. She noticed that he'd shaved off his stubble while she was in the shower and she missed it already. Missed the way it scratched against her skin when he kissed her and made her all sorts of hot and bothered.

It didn't stop him from kissing her anyway, and she had to admit he smelled nice. Really nice. It was the scent of some fancy after-shave that cost more than the priciest French perfume she owned.

"What do you think Gates wants?"

Kate shrugged. "I don't know." If she was going to guess it would be that she was coming here to ask her to return to her role as Captain of the 12th because that's what Kate would do in Gates's shoes. But that was only a guess. Maybe she'd ask her to go far away instead. To not speak to the press and leave quietly. Because this was one scandal too many for the NYPD to bear.

Oddly enough the possibility didn't bother her nearly as much as she thought it might. Not anymore. Not after what she'd put her family through during her time at Rikers.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

Castle squeezed her shoulder. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."

Kate made her way to the door, stood on her toes to check the peephole first and then opened it when she saw Gates on the other side.

"Commissioner," she welcomed her. "Come on in."

Iron Gates didn't shake hands or offer her a curt nod, as Beckett expected. What she got instead was a crushing hug from the deputy chief. "Hello, Kate."

She raised her brows and didn't miss Castle's look of surprise during their exchange.

"Mr. Castle," Gates nodded in her husband's direction after letting go of Beckett. "It's good to see you too. Thanks for going to get her last night."

"Thank you for making it possible."

"Yes," Beckett added. "Thank you for that."

Gates let Castle take her coat and stepped into their living room. Smoothed the edges of her skirt as though she were nervous. "Least I could do, for not trying harder to clear your name. Or ever coming to visit. For doubting you when I should've known better."

Remorse wasn't what Beckett was expecting from the deputy chief, especially since she didn't blame Gates for anything. "I'm glad you didn't come to Riker's. I'd much rather see you here," Kate told her. "As for doubting my innocence. I didn't exactly give you many reasons to. If I were in your shoes, I'd have handled it the exact same way."

Gates nodded, accepting her gesture for what it was. Even if she wasn't entirely comfortable with it. "Thank you."

"Can I get you two some coffee?" Castle offered.

"I'd like to talk to both of you."

"All right." Beckett motioned Gates to the living room table and they all sat down at one end of it. She was grateful to see that Gates finally saw Castle as her partner. In every sense.

"I want to release the footage we found at Vikram's place."

Beckett didn't hide her surprise. "Of the killing? It'll never-"

"Obviously not the whole video," Gates cut her off. "But photos of the men who entered his apartment. Specifically the one Vikram exposed. I want you to go public too, Kate. Tell the press that there are people out there who tried to kill an NYPD captain and then frame her for murder. It'll be our way of saying we _know_ and we're not taking it. We're fighting back and the entire force has your back now."

Beckett's jaw dropped. Just the thought of standing up to LokSat like this, boldly, _publicly_ , gave her a minor anxiety attack.

"I think," Gates went on, "that by doing that you're protecting yourselves better than any security detail I can possibly offer you. Releasing those photos tells them we know more than they think. That they can't murder members of this force and think there won't be consequences. If we go public with this and something happens to you, the press would be all over it and that is the last thing these people want."

"I agree with you about that," Beckett admitted. "But I'm not sure that letting the press in on our LokSat investigation is a good idea. It's too dangerous."

"We don't have to tell them any details," Castle suggested. "You and Vikram were investigating a drug cartel, that's all. There doesn't have to be any mention of LokSat or the link to the murder of the AG agents."

"The press will ask why we were investigating this off the books," Beckett pointed out.

"Who says it was off the books?" Gates countered. "Press doesn't have to know it was off the books. I can say we sanctioned it."

"Okay." Kate exhaled. Gates was going out on a limb for her and it was the last thing she expected.

"Gates is right," Castle added. "Going public is the best insurance for you."

"I, uh-all right," Kate conceded. "But I want to see the video first."

"You can come to the precinct or One PP to see it anytime. Our IT teams have already made two copies."

"Today?" Beckett caught Castle's frown.

"If you want. Yes."

"Tomorrow morning," Castle suggested with a tilt of the head, making sure his blue eyes met hers.

Gates was amused when she caught the subtle exchange between them. "Doesn't matter, but the sooner the better. The sooner I can coordinate a press conference."

"If you're heading there now, we can go to One PP with you," Beckett suggested.

" _Kate_?"

Castle was sitting next to her and Kate reached for his hand under the table. "Sooner the better, babe. Needs to be done."

Irritation lined her husband's brows. "Can we talk about this for a moment?"

"You don't have to decide right this second," Gates added. "And in the meantime, can you show me where your bathroom is?" It was no doubt her way of giving them a moment alone.

Castle pointed to the study. "Through there and to your right."

He waited until Gates was out of earshot, even though Beckett didn't care what her former Captain heard. This time she wasn't backing down. There was too much at stake.

"You _just_ got out of prison," Castle sighed. "Can we wait half a day before we toss you to the wolves?"

"Wait for what?" she questioned. "For LokSat to find a way to get rid of us? You do realize the only reason they laid off was because I was in prison, don't you? My reputation was in ruins, I was accused of murder and I had my hands tied, unable to investigate anything. They didn't need to kill me or threaten the people I love. Because I was no longer a threat to them. But now...everything's changed again."

"I know." Even Castle, who wasn't always swayed by logic, couldn't disagree with that. "But it's like being back where we started, where you have this tunnel vision when it comes to protecting us. You decide to sacrifice yourself and won't even give me a chance to weigh in on it. You keep forgetting we're a team and that you're not the only one capable of protecting this family. Stuff like _this_...you can't keep deciding for both of us."

Kate exhaled. He wasn't wrong. She was guilty of it all and she did have blinders on when it came to keeping him safe. But how could she not? He was the best thing in her life. How could he blame her for wanting to do everything in her power to make sure he stuck around?

"So what do you want to do, babe?" she questioned. "Wait?" She asked him because he needed to be a part of this decision, but truth was, she didn't care whether his answer was yes. Maybe it wasn't kind or fair, but she wouldn't agree to waiting. This was beyond kindness. She'd protect him from his kindness if need be.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I know you're not ready for this. Not physically, not emotionally. After the insanity of the last seven weeks, we haven't had five minutes to digest any of it."

"Is this all because I cried after you made me a coffee this morning?"

"That is not-" He ran a hand through his hair. Frustrated.

"When do we _ever_ have five minutes to digest anything?"

"I know-"

"We need to do this," she argued. "We need some sort of insurance against these guys. Not just to keep you and your mother and daughter safe. But me too." Beckett knew that was what would convince him. "I didn't spend six weeks in prison to die in a questionable car accident next week."

"Kate-"

"I mean it, Castle. I want a life and a future with you. I realized that more than ever when I was in prison and I'll fight for it. Do whatever it takes to keep us both around."

She knew she'd won this argument before he said anything.

"If you put it that way."

"I'm putting it that way."

Gates was back and sat herself across from them. "Have you decided?"

"We're coming with you," Beckett answered, before her husband had the chance. And before she had a chance to think about how much this terrified her.

* * *

 _One Police Plaza, New York City_

"Excuse me a moment," Kate Beckett stepped away from Castle and Gates when she saw the first washroom sign in the hallway.

Castle was chatting to a uniform that he obviously knew (it still amazed her sometimes, that natural and genuine charm of his that made it so easy for Castle to make friends. He already had way more cop buddies on the force than she ever did) and he barely noticed her stepping away.

Beckett made a beeline for the stall farthest away from the door and caught only a brief glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way. Of the ghostly pale, too-thin face that stared back at her.

She slammed the door shut and sat on the rim of the toilet, lowered her head to her knees to ward off the brutal light-headedness that had hit her as soon as she walked into the building and envisioned what she was about to see.

All of a sudden she had a hard time breathing, to the point where her fingers started to tingle and her knees felt like rubber. The last time she felt like that was during the sniper case when she suddenly lost control, physically and mentally.

 _Panic attack._

She needed to sit down and get a grip. Focus her pupils and control her breathing the way Burke had taught her. Breathing was the key, the rest would follow. If she could control her breathing, her heart would eventually stop racing and the light-headedness would cease.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; willed her lungs to cooperate and her hands to stop shaking. Beckett ran her hands through her hair and then gripped the roots, hard enough that it hurt and that she might end up yanking out a few strands.

Pain was a good antidote too to panic too.

 _"Fuck it,"_ she cursed under her breath. What she really wanted was a drink. Something strong and no-nonsense. A generous glass of vodka, straight-up, followed by a second one right away. That would calm her more than any half-assed breathing exercise. Sometimes she really was her father's daughter.

Kate took another deep breath and dug her fingernails into her scalp. Widened her eyes in response to the pain. It cleared her vision and stopped the walls from swimming around her.

 _Good. Focus._

Castle was right. She wasn't ready for this. Wasn't ready to see her friend stabbed to death in front of her eyes. Hell, after six weeks in prison she couldn't even handle the smell of a homemade coffee this morning without bursting into tears.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she scolded herself aloud. She'd been through worse ordeals than this. The tape meant that there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Gates was on her side now and ready to do whatever it took to make sure she'd make it through this alive. The murder charge was dropped and she was free.

She should be relieved, not terrified.

 _"We haven't had five minutes to digest this."_

Was that it? Was everything that she'd pushed aside for weeks in order to survive going to drown her in an overwhelming wave of panic now? Or was it something else?

Why did Castle always have to be right?

"Beckett?" Gates's voice rang through the stalls. How long had she been in here? "You okay?"

Kate stood up, pressed the lever to flush the toilet and took another deep breath before stepping back outside, making a point of washing her hands as if she hadn't gone in there just to compose herself.

"You know, you don't have to watch the tape," Gates added, observing her with the kind of concern that Beckett didn't appreciate.

"I'm out of jail because of that tape," Beckett reminded her, wiping her hands on the cheap, coarse paper that she forcefully yanked out of the steel box nailed to the wall.

"So you owe it to him to watch it?"

"I owe him a hell of a lot more than that." Beckett didn't look at Gates. Stared at her own reflection in the mirror instead. According to everything Castle told her, Vikram had been so damn brave in his final moments. Because of his bravery she was standing here right now, staring at her pale mirror image inside a bathroom at One Police Plaza instead of trying to stay alive another day at Rikers.

"I don't think that's true," Gates argued.

Victoria Gates meant well but she didn't know the whole story. Didn't know that it had been up to her to keep him from dying.

Beckett tightened her lips in resolve. She was tougher than bathroom meltdowns.

"I'm ready. Let's go."


	16. Chapter 16

**XVI**

 _One Police Plaza, NYC_

Castle watched her watching the tape.

He didn't really need to see it again but he didn't want her to do it without him there.

Beckett's face was devoid of emotion and if he didn't know her as well as he did; if he hadn't been able to catch the occasional tremble of her lips, or the way she hid her hands in her pockets and clenched them tight; to a stranger she might've looked like she was observing a painting in an art gallery. Or an ad on the subway. Not the brutal murder of a man she called a friend.

He listened to her point out minor details here and there, where clothing fibres from the men might've been left behind, their height and weight in relation to Vikram, the fact that Vikram had gotten hold of his killer's hair at one point; all things that Castle had missed because he'd been so distracted by the horror of it all. Because he wasn't a cop and didn't seek out evidence the way she did.

He listened to her discuss them calmly with Gates for several long minutes before the IT tech stopped the footage and started editing photos of the unmasked man. They were remarkably clear. There was no mistaking his identity, if someone out there knew him.

Gates pointed to three photos on the screen, showing the man's face from three different angles. Blond hair, high cheekbones, grey eyes and thin lips. Distinct Slavic features. If Castle were to guess it, he'd say the man was Ukrainian or Russian. They had already run his face through facial recognition and hadn't come up with anything yet. They'd already put it in the database of all major airports in the US. If the man tried to leave the country by air, they'd catch him.

"These are the photos I want to use at the press conference," Gates told them. "I can put it all together by tomorrow early afternoon if you're up for it," she said, looking at Beckett.

"Yes."

"Good." Gates told the IT tech to turn off the video and pull those photos, then she turned back to Beckett. "I'll call you tomorrow morning with the details, but essentially all we're doing is letting the press know that this man killed one of ours and whoever is behind it tried to frame an NYPD captain for the murder, after attempting to kill her. That's all. No details on what you were investigating."

Beckett nodded in agreement. "All right."

"Can we have the room please?" Gates asked the IT tech who immediately grabbed his lap top and left. Then she redirected her attention to Beckett and Castle. "I'd love for you to announce your return to the Twelfth at the same time."

Beckett raised her brows. "I, uh- "

"If you need to take some time you're welcome to it, but I'd like you back. Irving's a good friend of mine and he's done the best he could running it on such short notice, but he doesn't know that precinct and its officers the way you do. All charges against you were dropped. There is no reason for you not to return to your job."

"I'm flattered-"

"You know me better than to think I'm trying to flatter you," Gates cut her off. "It's the truth, Captain. When you don't get sidetracked by personal vendettas, you're damn good at what you do."

Castle moved a step closer to his wife but didn't say anything. He didn't want Beckett going back until she was ready. But he knew it wasn't his call. Especially not here, in front of Gates.

"Let me know how you feel about it tomorrow morning," she added, her voice softening as if she suddenly remembered that Beckett had watched her friend getting stabbed to death only moments ago. "Then I'll see you at the press conference."

Castle squeezed her shoulder after Gates left the room and Beckett recoiled as if he'd prodded her with something electric, evidence of how tightly wound she was.

"Sorry," she mumbled under her breath and stared vacantly into the corner of the room.

"You okay?"

Beckett angled her head towards him and blinked. "No."

"Come on." Castle slowly reached for her hand. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

 _Later_

She wanted to walk home. To release some of the pent up energy that had her wanting to run a fist into a wall. Kate didn't have to tell him as much, he could read it from all her tense body language.

Beckett would have run home if she thought he could keep up the entire way. For a moment, it stung him to know that he couldn't. Because he wanted to give her that release.

But the officers assigned to keep them safe at least until the press conference tomorrow didn't think a walk was a good idea.

"Too dangerous," one of them insisted before escorting them both to their cruiser.

"Not letting anything happen to you under our watch, Captain," the other added when he saw that she was about to protest.

Castle squeezed her hand. "He's right. Let's go home. Stay there 'til tomorrow." If she needed distractions and a means of release he could think of other ways than a run through Manhattan. Or a fist into a wall.

Both of them climbed into the back of the cruiser. It was an unmarked vehicle with oddly tinted windows and it felt so very different than the cruisers he was used to riding in. It was impeccably clean.

"They're bullet proof windows," said the officer who stepped into the passenger's seat in the front.

Castle leaned in to Beckett. "These guys notice everything."

"We can hear you too," the officer shot back from the front seat.

"Great."

Clearly Gates was pulling out all the stops with this security detail. These guys were the real deal. These weren't uniforms pulled from parking because that was the only manpower they could spare. Gates wanted Beckett safe and Castle was grateful for it. Even if it meant his wife was sitting next to him, ready to jump out of her skin.

Castle trailed his hand over her thigh and threaded his fingers through hers as soon as he found her hand. They rode the rest of the short drive in silence.

Castle was impressed that the two officers knew exactly which streets to take that would get them there the fastest.

"Agent Wallace will be outside at street level and I'll be outside the door," the black man who'd driven the car informed them.

 _Agent? So not NYPD then._

"Thank you," he heard Beckett say. It was the first word out of her mouth since they left One Police Plaza.

They rode the elevator upstairs in silence too and it wasn't until they stepped through the doors of their apartment that Beckett turned to him. "Castle-"

"What is it?"

"I want to forget what I saw on that tape." She sounded pleading and desperate. So very unlike her. "Help me forget?"

He didn't get chance to answer. Her lips were on his before he had the chance, clamouring for him with an intensity that took his breath away, while her tongue slipped inside his mouth, so hard and sleek that it was impossible to think. Impossible to not respond to the electricity coming off her skin in waves so palpable he could feel the bombardment of tiny shocks along the surface of his body.

His lips got caught between her teeth and they drew blood.

"Sorry," she breathed into him, gently licking it off, her hands cupping his face before they moved down and attacked his shirt. His buttons came undone with record speed, one of them ripped right off, until Castle grabbed her wrists and pushed her against the wall. Hard enough that it stopped her and jarred her senses.

"Slow down," he whispered. It had been a month and a half, and God knows he wanted her, every fibre of his body screamed for it. But not like this.

"Please," she was still pleading. "I don't want slow. I need fast and hard, Rick. _Please_. Make me forget _everything_."

Her ash-black pupils dilated in response to his body pressing into hers and he nodded in consent. Removed the soft, thin cream-coloured blouse she wore with ease as soon as he undid the buttons and slid it off her shoulders. Then he hooked his fingers through the purple scarf she around her neck and sent it drifting to the ground. He tore off her bra much faster and circled her breasts with his thumb before leaning in to worship them with his mouth. Making her moan as she sank down against both him and the wall, her eager hands sliding down his pants and then deftly rubbing against the inside of his thighs until her expert fingers inched higher, blindly, but knowing exactly where to roam because she knew every inch of his body as well as he knew hers.

Every single touch of hers was like a spark on a live wire as she undressed him.

Castle didn't need her tongue and then her mouth to trail the path of her fingers. But it did and his body responded against his will.

Castle stepped out of his pants before yanking Beckett back up, pushing himself into her and then bending his knees until they touched the wall where he'd pinned his wife. Swept an arm behind her knees in one swift motion and then turned around and took them both down to the floor.

"Castle?"

He might not be a fighter like she was, but Castle knew he was strong. Knew his limbs could easily support both their weights. Beckett was on top of him when they hit the ground, his hands hard on her biceps to keep her steady. But she wasn't there for long.

Castle grabbed a firm hold of her and turned them around, until she was stretched out underneath him. Long hair fell down around her face like a halo. God, she was gorgeous. His fingers skimmed underneath her panties and inched inside her, letting him know she wasn't ready. But it wouldn't take long, it never did.

"Castle," she groaned. "What the hell are you waiting for. _Now_."

He hesitated because he wanted it to feel good for her, but after Beckett shed the last remnant of clothing and grabbed his ass to pull him down towards her hips, he gave her exactly what she wanted.

Hard and fast. Over and over.

 _Later_

They were on the floor of the bedroom by the time they were done, after a pit stop on top of her desk. Sore and spent. One of Beckett's long legs was draped over him, her head nestled into him on the floor. It couldn't possibly be comfortable, but she'd been asleep like that for almost an hour now, testament to how exhausted she was.

He'd pulled a blanket off the bed shortly after she nodded off and it covered them both now. Partly because it was cold and partly because he knew his mother had a barging-in habit that always terrified him. Castle knew she had acting classes at her school today and that Alexis was supposed to be at Columbia until early evening. But neither mother nor daughter tended to stick to their schedules.

It was one of several reasons why he couldn't quite bring himself to enjoy what they did.

It was one thing for Martha to barge in while he and Beckett were underneath the sheets in their bedroom, but another altogether for her to walk in on them, naked and caught in the act on the living room floor. The thought made him shudder.

"Castle?" His name was a sleepy drawl on her lips, followed by an unabashed yawn.

"Hey." He leaned his head into her, until his lips were on her forehead.

She stretched and the friction of her leg inching along the inside of his turned him on again. He marvelled how that it was even possible after three rounds.

Her fingers ran over his chest and she pressed a kiss onto the side of his breast. "That was awful wasn't it?" she questioned softly, knowing the answer as much as he did. "I'm sorry, babe. Wasn't fair to you."

"Did it help?"

She closed her eyes and then opened them slowly, looking up at him. "Yes."

He met her remorse with a smile. "Good. All that matters."

"Not it's not."

"Kate-"

"I love you," she cut him off, propped herself up on her elbow so that her hair tickled his chest. "I used you and I wish I hadn't."

"Want me to write you an IOU for comfort sex?"

She smirked and leaned down to kiss his lips. "You're an idiot."

"It's been a month and a half, Kate. You really think I was an unwilling participant?"

She looked aghast. "If I thought you were then I never would have-"

"Hey," he grabbed her wrist. "I _know._ I was kidding. _"_

"Still. Don't ever want to use you again. Not like that. But I'm scared, Castle. Scared of falling back into this dark place. I went there after my mother's death and it happened again during the sniper case and I feel it now...I feel like it's so close that it's only a matter of time."

"You've been through hell these last two months," he reminded her. "If you have a break down we'll deal with it, Kate. It's not the end of the world. If it needs to happen, let it happen and we'll get through it together."

She lowered herself again, her head back on his chest. "Okay."

"I'm not upset that we didn't have great sex," he whispered into her ear. "We were overdue after three years."

Truth was, it had always been _really_ good between them. Right from that very first night when she'd arrived knocking at his door, rain-soaked and desperate, and crashed into his arms, raw and needy.

Both of them were keen observers who didn't take long to figure out exactly what it took to drive each other wild. Sometimes it was intense. Sometimes it was crazy (Beckett had a book in that box of hers. A black, hardcover book, written entirely in Russian. Something she'd brought back from her semester in Kiev, and God it made him wish he'd known her then. It was full of positions that even he had never seen before. They'd made it halfway through the book and Castle really hoped there was a sequel. He'd gladly fly to the Ukraine to pick it up if need be). Sometimes, after a hard day at the precinct, it was slow, tender and reverent; a physical extension of how much they meant to each other. But mostly, and above all, it was fun. Their sex life was full of foreplay, swordplay and word play. Sometimes even cosplay (they were both sci-fi geeks, after all).

Outside the bedroom, Kate Beckett could be so serious, so guarded and hard to read. But sex with her was so much damn fun.

The bedroom was the one place she let her guard down and didn't feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. Most of time it left them sweaty and exhilarated and stupidly content. Three years together and Castle still couldn't get enough. Three years later and he already knew he'd never ever have this with anyone else again. This physical-cerebral connection that he had with Kate had gladly ruined him for anyone else for the rest of his life.

"Let me make it up to you tonight," she whispered. "Let me remind you how much I love you. Let me love you well."

"So you're cooking dinner then?"

She stretched her arms and pushed herself up with a smile, straddled and towered over him. "Is that how you want me to love you? By cooking? Sure."

"Cheeseburgers?"

"If that's what you want."

He turned sideways, knocking her off balance so that she crashed down on top of him. Made her giggle and then snuggle into him, into that spot between his jaw and shoulders that was such a perfect fit.

He kissed her, aiming for her forehead but ending up with a mouthful of hair instead. "I already have what I want."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter XVII**

 _Courtroom, Washington DC_

He was in the middle of a trial when his phone started buzzing. It wasn't unusual that it did. He never turned it off completely. But this was ridiculous.

It kept buzzing. Non-stop. Vibrating against his thigh like an out-of-control sex toy.

He could barely concentrate on what the prosecution was yammering on about. Not that he could focus on much else but her shapely legs in that skirt and heels anyway. There should be laws against that kind of attire in the courtroom, he thought. How the hell was anyone supposed to pay attention to what women were saying when they dressed like that?

Amidst it all, his phone kept vibrating.

He'd had enough.

The judge picked up his gavel and banged it down hard on the counter. "I'm calling for a recess!"

Dozens of heads in the courtroom snapped towards him.

"What?" Lawyer Lady Legs squinted at him in confusion. " _Recess_? Why- your honour I was in the middle of-"

He shot her down with a single glare. Since when did he need to provide explanations?

He climbed down from his bench and rushed out of the room into his private chambers. He yanked the phone from his pocket the moment he closed the door. Whatever this was it had to be important.

There were a dozen missed calls and a message that told him to "turn on the TV".

He followed the instructions and grabbed the remote that was sitting on his mahogany desk. There was a TV mounted onto the wall on the other side of his room.

Mickelson swinging a golf club. A talk show host feigning concern over a weeping pregnant woman. A commercial for a nasty looking hybrid car.

And then he saw her and his jaw dropped.

Katherine Beckett standing in front of dozens of reporters.

She wasn't dressed in an ugly prison outfit but an elegant, navy pinstripe suit that hugged her tall, too-slender frame as though it were tailor made. Her make-up was immaculate and her long hair fell over those high cheekbones so perfectly it looked like she was going to a photo shoot at a fashion magazine.

She was disgustingly telegenic.

The judge had a hard time looking past her stunning features and hearing what she was saying. No wonder that awful writer husband of hers had it bad. So much so that he wrote an entire series of cheesy crime novels based on her.

Then he saw the photos behind her, plastered on a large screen for the whole world to see. A man from the team they'd hired to take care of Singh. The judge remember his name, Dmitri Sukhov, a Russian mercenary. And there was his face. Visible and exposed for all the world to see.

The judge clenched his phone. _That is not fucking possible. No fucking way in hell. No fuck-_

The phone he was holding buzzed again.

An incoming call from an unknown number. It always was. Untraceable burner.

The judge couldn't remember the last time he was flustered or nervous. But he was now.

 _"Are you watching this?"_

"Yes."

 _"How is this possible?"_

"I don't know." Of course that wasn't an acceptable answer, but what the hell else could he say? He really didn't know. He had no fucking idea how she could have gone from a cell at Rikers and a certain murder conviction to this. To telling a dozen reporters that she was back as the Captain of the 12th precinct. To letting them know that she'd nearly been killed because of a classified investigation into a drug ring.

 _How?_

 _"You know this makes her untouchable. If she dies now we'll have every crime reporter in the country investigate it."_

"I know." Obviously. Why else would she be holding this press conference?

 _"Find another way to make her back off."_

"Okay." The judge's throat was so dry it was hard to speak.

 _"That man cannot be found."_

"I know."

 _"If he is, you're done. For good."_

The judge didn't get a chance to reply. The line was already dead. Conversations with LokSat never lasted more than a minute.

Kate Beckett was still on his TV screen, along with that black Deputy Chief.

He wanted to reach through the screen and kill them both with his bare hands.

* * *

 _One Police Plaza, NYC_

Castle had to wait nearly an hour after the press conference to catch her alone. Until the crowds finally dispersed and were done peppering her and Gates with questions.

"Hey-"

Beckett was opening a bottle of water that she had grabbed from the end of a long press table. when he entered the nearly empty room.

She was in the process of taking a sip from it when she saw him. Her face lit up and she put the water down, wrapped her arms around him as soon as he was close enough. Unwilling to let go until he gently pulled out of her embrace.

"You were amazing."

"I was so nervous," she confessed.

"Never would have guessed."

"Yeah right."

"It's the truth. Watch the recaps on the news and see for yourself." Castle reached over to brush a long, rebellious strand of hair over her shoulder and that elicited a smile. Beckett looked good. Really good. Expertly made up and coiffed thanks to the make-up artist who'd fussed over both her and Gates before the press conference this morning.

It was proof of how deceptive looks could be because Castle knew she didn't feel well when they left the loft this morning. She'd woken up with a nightmare in the middle of the night and then couldn't get back to sleep because she had a headache that even three of his mother's Tylenol pills wouldn't dull.

She'd offered to sleep in the guest room but he'd latched onto her silk pyjamas and pulled her back.

 _"My tossing and turning is going to keep both of us up all night, babe. No need."_

 _"Stay,"_ he'd mumbled, half asleep. _"Toss all you want. Just stay."_

 _"Castle-"_

 _"Might not be able to sleep with you squirming like a toddler. But definitely won't be able to sleep if you leave."_

There'd been silence in response.

 _"Kate?"_

 _"I'm sorry...of course, I'll stay."_

 _"Good."_

He'd felt her long fingers snake up behind his neck, right into his hair. It was so heavenly he might've purred a little.

 _"Castle?"_

 _"Mmm?"_

 _"I love you."_

 _"Love you too."_

Her nimble fingers kept doing that thing on his neck, hitting all the right spots and easing all the tension out of him. He'd fallen asleep again in no time. But judging from the way she squinted at him in the morning he'd been quite certain that she'd stayed awake all night. Even now, underneath the concealer and the rest of the perfect make-up, her exhaustion shone through.

It bothered him because he was so used to seeing her strong and healthy. Indomitable. Was it even normal that she still had headaches nearly two months after the concussion? He'd look it up. Or ask Lanie next time he saw her.

"How you feeling?"

He expected a customary 'fine' but she actually pondered the question. Such was the newfound honesty between them. "I'll be okay. I'm not sick, babe. Just tired from all the stress. If it's more than that, I'll tell you."

"Okay," he gave her shoulder a squeeze. Castle believed her. Beckett was tough.

She could probably use a vacation that involved nothing but reading and sleeping at a beachside resort but he knew that it wasn't an option. That she'd somehow be okay anyway.

"I have to head to Black Pawn for an in-person grilling from my ex."

"Ouch."

"I might even deserve it," he admitted. "My rough draft is so far behind they're ready to lock me in a room with a laptop."

"As long as I get access to it."

"I trust you could take Gina if you don't."

Beckett chuckled. "I could and I would."

"Back to the precinct?"

"I talked to Irving right after the press conference. He's so ready to hand over the reins and head back into retirement. I have three meetings this afternoon."

"Well, now I feel better about my upcoming grilling."

She stepped into his space, stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's good. I'm happy to be back. To get a second chance."

He kissed her back. Proud. "Go do your thing."

"Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"Pick me up after work?"

He cocked his head and gave her a questioning grin. It was such an un-Beckett-like request. "I, uh...sure. I can do that."

"Thanks."

Castle gave her arm a final squeeze when she received a call and he listened to the tone of her voice change immediately as she spoke to one of her detectives.

He left her to the phone call and made his way out of the press room and out of the ugly brown structure (fine proof that brutalism was an aptly named style of architecture) and walked back over to Broadway in the crisp late November morning.

Castle buttoned up his wool jacket and had a good feeling for the first time in a long time.

Thanks to that video and press conference, they might even get their life back.

* * *

 _12th Precinct, NYC_

Kate Beckett could feel all the eyes on her, dozens of them darting in the other direction as soon as hers turned towards them, while walking through the precinct for the first time in nearly seven weeks, alongside the man who'd taken it over during her absence.

She spotted Kevin Ryan's among them too, but his familiar blue eyes creased into a genuine smile as soon as he saw her. In return, Beckett acknowledged him with a subtle nod of gratitude.

Relief was the only thing she felt when they entered her office and closed the door.

"Wonder what they're thinking," she mumbled while Irving closed the blinds. He didn't want an audience any more than she did.

"They're curious," he told her. "Can't fault them for that. Not every day a Captain walks back on the job after imprisonment and a murder charge."

Beckett swallowed. "Right."

"That was a dick thing to point out, wasn't it?" Walter Irving's stern face softened and widened into a smile. He'd always looked like such a typical cop to her. Tall and broad-shouldered with perfect military posture and salt and pepper hair. Even fifteen years ago. He'd be typecast as a police captain if he were an actor. That's how much he looked the part.

Beckett returned his smile. Funny, how effortlessly he put her at ease. "It's the truth."

She liked Irving.

Beckett remembered how he'd taken her under his wing during the first law enforcement conference she'd attended as an officer. He'd invited her to join him and a bunch of other officers for a beer after the seminars were over when everyone else had barely acknowledged her low-ranked existence. She'd learned then that he was married to his high-school sweetheart and had four kids, two of them adopted from orphanages in Haiti.

"People are gonna gossip and it'll suck for a couple of weeks," he told her honestly. "But then they'll get over it 'cause there's too much other crap to deal with and they'll all be too busy remembering that you're a damn fine cop who knows this place and its officers way better than I ever could."

"Thanks."

Irving pointed to a stack of folders. "There are the cases that opened last month. Have a quick look before the ops meeting at noon. I'm gonna need to reference a couple of them, 'cause I want to pull Hansen off the Curtis case. Hell, I'd love to pull the old bastard off the force permanently."

"I think I might work on persuading him to take an early retirement package."

"Has 1PP synched your phone yet so your meeting calendar's updated?"

"Not yet," she told him. "But I can do it."

"I forget your generation actually knows how these mini computers work."

Irving took the plaque with his name off his desk, _her_ desk, and grabbed hers from a nearby shelf.

"Hey," Beckett tried to wave him off. "You're still captain 'til the end of the day."

"Oh hell no," he told her with another smile, dusting off her plaque and carefully placing it near the front of her desk. "This is your house, Captain Beckett. Welcome back."

* * *

 _Later_

It was dark by the time she stepped outside the precinct and saw him loitering by the coffee shop across the street.

It sent goose bumps up her arm that had nothing to do with the crisp late-autumn evening. Standing there like that, in the middle of the sidewalk, her husband might as well paint a target on his back.

 _Stop it,_ Beckett chided herself. This had to stop. This irrational fear that LokSat would go after him and that she had to take all sorts of unreasonable actions to stop it. _No more._

Because she was so terrified of losing him, she'd already gone after them in all the wrong ways and faced the worst possible consequences.

 _No more._

It's why Beckett wanted to meet him after work. Because she needed to know that they were truly done hiding. That they _could_ walk home together, hand-in-hand through Manhattan, and not be gunned down in the process.

The thought made her shiver as she jaywalked across the street to meet him. So much so that she wanted to forget all about her bold plan, hail the first available taxi and shove her husband right into it.

Castle was pleased to see her, dusting a kiss on her cheek while planting the palm of his hand on her back to pull her close. Her cheeks were still warm from being cooped inside the heated precinct all day and they cooled against the touch of his icy lips

"Why didn't you come in?" she asked, grabbing his hand as they started walking, trying to cut through the throng of rush hour pedestrians heading to the nearest subway stop.

"It was your first day back. Figured you didn't need me meddling already."

Beckett suppressed a chuckle. "Isn't meddling kind of your specialty?"

"Shut up."

Beckett grinned. He was still the only one who could lighten her mood with a single quip.

"Where are we going?"

"I thought we could walk home."

"Long walk," he countered. "You barely slept last night. Aren't you tired?"

"Fresh air will wake me up and we could grab a bite to eat on the way."

"All right then." She knew he'd never say no to food.

They'd barely walked two blocks when she was starting to feel the chill. Beckett fastened the belt on her burgundy trench coat. It was layered but not nearly warm enough for winter weather.

"You sure you don't want to hop on the subway?" Nothing ever got by him.

"No."

"Wanna tell me the real reason we're walking home?"

He really did notice _everything_. All the time.

A sudden gust of wind swept her hair back as they stood at a traffic light, waiting to cross West Houston and make their way northeast into the heart of Greenwich Village.

"Because I need to know we can."

"Ah-" He also never took much to understand her. Her brilliant, intuitive husband.

"Castle?" The light turned green and Beckett kept her eyes on the resulting flurry of pedestrian and vehicular movement.

"Hmm?"

"If something happens...if some car rolls down a window and we spot a rifle, you swear to me you will not do something stupid."

Castle stepped in front of her as soon as they crossed the street. Gave a push away from the mass of pedestrians that almost crashed into them as soon as they stopped moving. Pulled her away from the main street until they stood next to the window of a butcher shop with a "Closed" sign hanging inside it.

"Something stupid like what? Throw myself in front of you?"

Beckett wasn't sure what exactly he was getting at. "Yeah. Like that."

"Not a fucking chance."

"Castle-" He was suddenly so blindingly angry and he'd grabbed her arms, so hard that it caught the attention of a passer-by. The man gave her a concerned look until she roughly brushed off her husband's grip. As if he'd ever hurt her. It was the last thing she wanted a stranger to think.

"Don't Castle me," he growled. "I thought after everything that's happened the last two months that this bullshit idea you have in your head about my life somehow being worth more than yours, that my demise would somehow be more devastating for you than yours for me, was done with. I thought we were partners again!"

"I can't-" She couldn't finish because a sudden flood of tears suddenly made it hard to speak. God, she was such a mess still. Anything and everything made her cry these days.

Her back was against the wall of the butcher shop window and Castle leaned into her so close that his lips were nearly on hers. "If I see someone trying to kill you, Kate, you can bet I'll do everything in my power to stop it. Same as you would do for me. Asking me to do anything less is not acceptable."

"I can't lose you, Castle. Why can't you understand that?" She got the words out but they were more of a whimper than a declaration.

"I know losing your mother was the hardest thing you've ever gone through," he said softly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away some of her tears. "You know what the hardest thing was for me? Watching you lose consciousness after taking a bullet to the chest at Montgomery's funeral. Watching you _die_ in front of my eyes."

She sniffled. "I know."

"I don't think you really do," he accused. "If you did you wouldn't ask me to consider the possibility of going through that again without doing everything in my power to stop it."

"It's just that...you have a family, Rick. A family that-"

"You're my family, Kate. _You_. As much as my mother and daughter are. And every time you even suggest that I could live without you, it's not noble or strong. It's so goddamn selfish is what it is, and you need to stop. No more. Ever."

"Okay."

"Say it like you mean it."

The tears kept falling. She did mean it. Maybe she didn't like it, but she God knows she understood it. In some ways they were far more alike than they'd ever admit. "No more."

"Swear to me, Kate."

" _No more_."

"Partners?"

"Yes. Partners."

He exhaled and looked into her eyes, until she caught the tiniest nod letting her know he believed her. Finally.

Castle leaned into her and kissed her hard. Desperate lips that clearly needed to hammer it into her brain along with the ferocity of his love. It was only when she started to kiss him back that he slowed down, pulled back a little and tenderly claimed her all over again, tongue and teeth, punishing at first and then soothing, oblivious to the world around them. When he finally let go, she muffled a groan of disappointment because she wanted more. Because kissing him was near to the very top of her list of favourite things. It made her forget everything and brought her back to life all at once.

"Come on," he grabbed her hand. "Let's get food."

Beckett wiped away the last of her tears with the back of her hand. "Made you hungry, did I?"

"Wish I could blame you for my appetite."

He draped an arm around her waist and they kept walking until they turned onto MacDougall where Castle steered them downstairs into an old Italian trattoria. It was very different from the usual trendy mid-town spot he preferred when they went out for dinner, but of course he knew the owner anyway and even though the restaurant was busy, white-haired Monte managed to scrounge up a table near the bar for them.

"Everything's homemade here," Castle told her after the owner brought them a bottle of Chianti. "From recipes handed down from his Tuscan grandma."

Barely one glass of wine and half a bowl of _fettuccine alle vongole_ , along with a few bites of Castle's lasagna later, and Beckett was crashing fast.

He watched her trying to hold back a yawn when Monte came to check on them later. "We're definitely going to need an order of tiramisu."

The old man hadn't taken two steps away from the table when Castle's phone rang for the second time during their meal. He picked it up.

"Same unknown number again."

"Maybe you should answer it?"

"It's just a telemarketer."

"What if we won a timeshare in Cancun?"

Her husband slid his finger across the phone, without a hint of a smile. "Who is this?"

His frown deepened and Beckett was suddenly wide awake again. "Rick?" she whispered. "Who is it?"

 _"_ Listen to me, you can't just dictate- Fine. Tomorrow."

"Who was that?" Beckett demanded.

"Smith."

" _What_?"

"He said we have to meet. That's it's a matter of life and death."

Beckett shook her head. "Oh no...I don't think so."

But Castle had already made up his mind. "Tomorrow evening. He'll let us know where."

" _Us_?"

"He says he needs to see both of us. It's about LokSat."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter XVIII**

 _12th Precinct, NYC_

It was an understatement to say her first day back was busy but Kate Beckett was grateful for it. The two Skype meetings with 1PP, the seven officers she met with individually in regards to the highest profile cases at the precinct, the dozen file folders dumped on her desk during the course of the day and the four-hundred and sixty-nine unread e-mails in her inbox. All of it meant that she didn't have five coherent minutes to think about meeting with Smith tonight and that was a good thing.

Beckett stifled a yawn and looked at the half-eaten chicken salad sandwich on her desk lying next to the nearly empty cup of cold coffee. Precinct demands aside, she made a mental note to give herself at least fifteen minutes to eat lunch tomorrow. That she'd never get over her post-prison exhaustion if she didn't start taking better care of herself.

Normally she had a handful of snacks in her drawers - nuts, sunflower seeds, dried fruits- but Irving had gotten ridden of whatever was in there before she had been carted off to Rikers over a month ago.

 _Buy new snacks,_ she told herself and her stomach growled in agreement. Beckett greedily took another bite of the sandwich before grabbing her coffee cup with the intent of refilling it in the break room. It was nearly five o'clock. She'd need one more to get through this last hour before their meeting with Smith.

She winced when she swallowed. It still hurt to eat food that wasn't soft and doughy. Like the pasta and tiramisu they had last night. Or the amazing smoothie Castle made her this morning. God, she was going to get used to those really quickly.

Sandwich out of the way, Beckett stepped over to the break room and checked her cell phone for any missed calls from Castle. He was supposed to call her and tell her where to meet. Smith always preferred to contact her husband. Of course he did.

One swipe and nothing.

Inside the break room, Beckett set down the phone and poured a generous amount of milk into her coffee cup when she saw Detective Sarah Fung enter the room.

"I, uh, Captain- " The young woman, who'd come to her apartment six weeks ago to arrest her, was tongue-tied now. "Welcome back."

Beckett gave her a smile that was meant to set her at ease. "Thank you. It's good to be back."

Instead of putting the detective at ease, her response made Fung look tormented. "Captain, I'm sorry. That we had to- you know. The arrest..."

Beckett leaned against the counter and cupped the ceramic mug in her hands. The smell alone reenergized her. "You were doing your job," Beckett told her. "Don't ever feel the need to apologize for that."

"Yes, ma'am." She didn't look convinced.

"From everything I've seen and heard you've always done a stellar job."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Beckett eyed her. She hadn't intended to have this conversation with the detective for at least another week or so, but what the hell. She'd learned to live in the moment lately. "I think you could be even better if you had a better team around you."

"Ma'am, Hansen is a good detect-"

"No, he's not," Beckett cut her off. "He hasn't been a good cop for over a decade. Maybe never."

Fung's face turned beet red. Truly at a loss for words now. She'd never disrespect her partner. Beckett didn't expect her to.

"I know Gates paired you with him because it helped prolong his usefulness. Because you're one of the few cops he wasn't going to drag down to his level." Beckett took a sip of coffee and thought about it. "It's a solid operational decision. I might have made the same if I were in her shoes then, but it's a short-term move and it's damn unfair to you. You have a promising career ahead of you and you're too young to be dragging around deadweight."

Fung blanched. Too entrenched in police tradition already for her to know what to do with _that_ kind of truth. Voiced out loud by her Captain no less. "Hansen will..."

"He'll go ballistic. I know. Maybe even take it up with the union. Not that he'll have a case. Partners get reassigned by their commanding officers all the time." She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it'll be just the push he needs to take an early retirement package. He's already pissed that I'm back."

Fung still didn't say anything.

"I'd like for you to work with Ryan and Esposito. But I need you to be on board with that. Are you?"

Fung's eyes widened. "Yes, oh my god yes-" Then she caught herself. "Ma'am. Yes, ma'am."

Beckett nodded. "Good. I'll talk to Hansen tomorrow. And Fung?"

"Yes."

"It's Beckett. We're all a team here."

That got her a nod and something resembling a smile in return. "Got it."

She watched the detective grab a soda from the vending machine and leave the break room with a giddy expression. She enjoyed the momentary silence and took another sip of coffee, debating whether to break it to Hansen or to the boys first.

* * *

 _Later_

 _East River Park, NYC_

They'd been here only a few minutes and already the biting wind coming off the river had chilled her to the bone. Even her thick, red wool coat wasn't enough to stave it off.

Castle side-stepped around her, taking the brunt of the gusting wind with his broad back and effectively shielding her from it.

Aside from a cyclist that passed them about a minute ago and a couple of lovebirds French kissing at the other end of the block, they were the only ones here. Or maybe not. It was hard to tell in the dark and Beckett didn't like that.

There was a baseball diamond at the north end of the park and at the south end a kid's soccer field and a row of tennis courts. Beckett and Castle were in the middle of them, in a grassy area full of puddles, dotted by a handful of scattered tree trunks with leafless limbs that looked menacing in the shadows of the moon. It was way too easy for someone to hide behind a tree and aim straight at them.

Beckett turned around 180 degrees, scanning every inch of park space around them, as much as she could in the dark. One of her hands was already on the service weapon hiding underneath her coat, ready to draw it at the slightest threat.

"Where the hell is he?" she asked Castle with chattering teeth. The wind kept flinging her long hair across her face and she cursed herself for not having tied it back on the way here.

Castle didn't get a chance to answer when she spotted him, emerging from the rear of the tennis court closest to them.

Her fingers tightened around her Glock, observing Smith with steely focus until he was within earshot of them.

"You can take your hand off your gun, Captain," was the first thing he said. "If they still wanted you dead they wouldn't have sent me to do the job, trust me."

"What do you want from us?" Castle cut in.

"Let's walk," he told them. "Down to the river."

He'd gotten much older since she'd last seen him, Beckett observed after deciding that he wasn't likely to whip out a silencer and try to kill them both.

"Fine," Castle agreed, draping an arm around her that nudged her towards the water. "We can talk and walk, but start talking."

"You need to stop," Smith said to her while walking towards the river at a brisk pace.

"Stop what?"

"Stop going after LokSat and stop investigating Singh's death."

" _What_?" Beckett stopped walking. Stopped dead in her tracks.

"You were right in thinking that the press conference would put you off limits, would make killing you, or Castle..." Smith turned to her husband. "...much too big of a pain in the ass for them. It means they're forced to use the only leverage they have left."

Castle's face paled in the moonlight. "What leverage?"

"Your daughter. Your mother," he turned back to Beckett. "Your father. The only people left who mean enough to make you stop."

"They might as well go after me and Castle then," Beckett argued. "They'll be just as suspicious if anything happens to our family."

"Oh it won't happen right away," Smith countered. "And it won't be anything like what they did to Vikram. Or what they tried to do to you."

"What are you saying?" Castle demanded.

"It'll be a mugging gone wrong. It's New York City after all. People get mugged here. Or a drunk driver. Sure, a nosy reporter might dig into it but they won't find anything. Trust me."

"I can't stop this investigation," Beckett hissed. "Thanks to what they did to me and Vikram, it's beyond my control now. One PP and their technicians are involved. So is Gates. Vikram's murder isn't even entirely within our jurisdiction, it's a joint investigation between two precincts."

"You're a clever lady," Smith told her. "Find a way to obstruct it until it gets shoved to the backburner. The IT techs at One PP won't get much from Vikram's hard drive aside from loose ends, will they?"

"Do you really think I'm going to compromise my badge that way?"

Smith shrugged his shoulders. "Personally I don't care what you do. I'm only here to tell you what they'll do and they _will_ do it. Don't for a minute think that they won't."

Beckett stepped right into his space, oblivious to the increasingly fierce wind. "Who are they and how do you know all this anyway? How is it that you know what they will and won't find on those hard drives and how do you know what's up their sleeve unless you're involved with them yourself?"

Smith's pale features narrowed in anger. "I think you're forgetting that I'm the man who's tried to keep you safe for years now, in spite of your recklessness and your unwillingness to see the consequences of your actions."

Beckett grabbed his coat. "If I'd listened to you and all your warnings, I'd never have found my mother's killer!"

"If it wasn't for me honouring Roy Montgomery's request to try and keep you safe, you'd probably be dead."

"Is that what you think?"

"It's the truth, Kate. You and I both know it."

"Who _are_ you anyway?"

Smith tried to yank her hands off his coat without success. "I suggest you let me go."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Let me go, Beckett."

She grabbed his coat tighter, pulled at his collar. "Tell me how to reach these guys."

"I know you have a death wish and think you're invincible, but this thing...it's way bigger than you could ever imagine. It's not about getting rid of one or two players. Let it go. This is one fight you can't win," he repeated. "And let me go. Right now."

"No-"

"Beckett!" Castle's hands were on hers now, succeeding at yanking them off Smith's coat. Pulling her back to hard that she nearly tumbled into him. Would have if he hadn't caught her. Beckett turned and glared at him and wrestled free from his grasp.

Smith was already walking away from them both. Disappearing into the night. "You do whatever you want," he shouted into the wind. "But be prepared to face the consequences."

Beckett pulled out her gun. "Stop!"

Castle's hands were on her arms again, about to grab her gun, but she lowered it before he had the chance.

" _What the hell, Beckett_?"

She sighed. It's not as though she was really going to shoot him. "He comes here with these cryptic warnings and we're just supposed to nod and agree?" she asked Castle. "Where the hell is he getting this information?"

"I don't know where he gets his info," Castle replied. "But I do know he's on our side. The man nearly died keeping his promise to Montgomery to protect you."

Beckett stared into the darkness. Smith was already gone and out of view. The adrenaline rush of their encounter was deflating quickly and she could once again feel the full brunt of the chill coming off the East River.

"Come on," Castle grabbed her hand. "Let's go. We need to talk."

* * *

 _Later_

They walked back along Houston and then headed north along Avenue D into the East Village. It was a mostly residential area, a mix of new condos, out of place among rent controlled apartments, and old industrial lofts that were a world apart from their own home on Broome. It was a pocket of Manhattan still mostly ignored by tourists.

They found a grimy diner somewhere along the way and settled down at a cheap linoleum table inside. Ordered hot chocolates and French fries. Because neither of them needed caffeine and neither of them wanted to eat anything here that wasn't deep fried.

Beckett thought that maybe the encounter with Smith would kill her appetite, but she was wrong. There was a mound of French fries on a large plate in the middle of the table and she was attacking them with the kind of vigour that usually only Castle had for fast food. In fact, he was the one who was barely nibbling on them, having one for every three that she inhaled after dipping them into a liberal amount of ketchup.

The hot chocolate was watery, but it was also warm and sweet and made for an oddly delicious contrast to the saltiness of the fries.

"What are you going to do?" Castle asked her once they'd conquered half the plate of fried potatoes.

"This thing," she explained. "It's bigger than me. I can't single-handedly stop this investigation, babe."

"You have to-" Castle set down a half-eaten fry. It struck her then, how pale and sombre he was. "You have to _try_. I can't-"

"I know," she met his desperate gaze. "It's Martha and Alexis. I get it."

"Do you?" he questioned. "Because it doesn't feel like it right now."

"Seriously, Castle?" Beckett stared at him. "This is exactly why I left you to chase after these guys. Because Rita convinced me that if I was going to do this, I had to do it alone...that if I didn't, you'd be a casualty. They're using a different target this time, but it's the same MO. 'Come after us and we destroy what matters most to you.' "

"Well, it's working. I won't risk anything happening to them."

Beckett set down her hot chocolate. "Do you realize what you're asking me to do?"

Castle didn't look at her. Stared at the lone French fry he was holding instead.

"These guys almost killed me, they stabbed Vikram to death in his own apartment and then tried to make me take the fall for it, I was at Riker's for nearly six weeks...and now you want me to help them cover it all up because Smith is making threats?"

"We're talking about my daughter, Beckett," he whispered. "Alexis. We're talking about Alexis! If anything happens to her when I know I could have stopped it, I'll never forgive myself.. I'll never forgive..."

Beckett felt a bitter heat surge into her cheeks before she finished the sentence for him. "Me. You'll never forgive me."

His eyes were wet when they met hers. "I'm so in love with you. You know that. There's not much I wouldn't forgive you. I get that this is who you are, but I'm a father, Kate. That's who _I_ am and I'll do anything to protect my only child. _Anything._ If it means we don't cut off the head of a drug cartel to keep her safe then, I can live with that. _"_

"If I stop this investigation, then I'm just another corrupt cop. I'm no better than the cops who covered up my mother's murder and made it look like a random act of gang violence. If I do this then...my career is over."

"No, it doesn't-"

"I am not going to be a corrupt cop hiding behind a badge. You know me better than that."

"It's _one_ case, Kate. One."

"Until it isn't. Until I get blackmailed into turning a blind eye on an incoming drug shipment. Or get asked to botch a murder investigation. Or dispose of a piece of evidence. It _never_ ends at one case!"

"What do you want me to do here, Kate?" he whispered across the table. "Say "go get 'em, honey" while I wait for the day that my daughter doesn't come home? I don't care if it's the right thing or the moral thing to do...I won't. I won't do it. I can live with you putting our lives in danger, no matter how much I hate it. But we made a choice to do this, you and I. My daughter didn't."

"You really want me to help cover this up? All because of what Smith said."

Castle pushed his chair back with dismay. "I can't believe you're not considering it. Especially after you just agreed that this is their MO. "

"Castle?-" She watched him get up. "Where are you going?"

"I need air."

"We need to discuss-" But he was already halfway out of the grimy diner, with multiple eyes looking up from other tables and staring at him.

Beckett tightened her lips. They really did have the worst communication in the world sometimes.

She grabbed her coat and darted after him until a huge black woman stepped out from behind the counter and blocked her path. "Not so fast, lady."

Beckett pulled her wallet from a pocket and handed her a twenty dollar bill.

"Lemme get your change."

"Keep the change," Beckett told her, hastily slipping her arms into the sleeves of her coat.

Castle was already halfway down the block when she saw him hail a cab.

"Hey! _Wait!"_ she yelled into his direction. Castle got into the taxi and she watched angrily as it sped off into the distance. "I hope you're opening those windows because I thought you needed air," she grumbled under her breath.

So much for discussing this.

* * *

 _Castle Residence_

Of course he couldn't sleep until he heard her coming through the door nearly two hours later.

Maybe she walked home and made a stop on the way. Maybe she had to blow off some steam too. Brood on a park side bench or on a set of swings.

Although if he knew her as well as he thought he did, he'd guess that she made a stop somewhere else. Where she always went when she was at a loss.

Castle heard her going into the bath, running a shower and taking her time before she finally made her way into the bedroom and slid underneath the bed sheets, turning her back to him.

She hadn't said a word even though Castle made no effort to hide the fact that he was wide awake.

He reached for her shoulder and gave it a tug.

"Kate-"

She turned around with a sigh. Faced him with tired irritation.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. He was and wanted her to know it. Running off on her like that had made him feel like shit.

Her hand reached for him, cupped his chin while her thumb stroked his cheek. "Apology accepted."

"It's just-when he mentioned Alexis. I lost it. Couldn't think straight."

"I know. I love her too. Her and Martha. I'd never let anything happen to them, you know that, right?"

There was so much love in the way she looked at him that he wanted to believe it. "She's not your daughter. You don't have to-"

"Hey," she shushed him with an index finger over his lips. "She's family. _Our_ family. As much as my Dad is."

"Okay." He did believe her.

"But we do need to talk about this. Whether or not you want to."

"I know."

"Castle?"

"I know. We will." He reached for her and pulled her close, where he needed her to be. "I love you."

Beckett smiled and tilted her head so she could kiss him with ease. "Love you too."

"Tomorrow."

She exhaled. She didn't agree of course. Beckett was always in let's-get-it-done mode. "Okay. Tomorrow."

With a conciliatory smile, Castle trailed his index finger along the outline of her beautiful face. Beginning at the jut of her cheekbone and ending at her full lips, where it slid in between them, letting her tongue wet the tip.

Castle pushed himself up on his elbow and leaned down to kiss her hard. "Tomorrow," he repeated, slinking his hand underneath her t-shirt.

Tonight he wanted to love her.

* * *

 _Next day_

"Castle?" Beckett was still half asleep when she felt him slipping back into bed. "What time is it?" she yawned. No matter what time it was, she wanted another couple of hours of sleep.

"Eight o'clock."

"Oh my God- " She threw back the comforter and bolted out of bed.

"You slept through the alarm."

"Why didn't you-"

"Tried," he countered. "You were sleeping hard."

Strands of wayward hair fell all over her face and she blew them away. "Liar."

He gave her that boyish smile that always melted all her defenses. "Swear."

"We need to talk," she reiterated.

"Tonight," he promised.

She dashed off into the bathroom. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"I left you a smoothie in the kitchen. Poured it into the to-go container, since you're so late."

Beckett ran back and planted a kiss on his cheek. It was so hard to be angry with him. Never mind stay angry. "Thank you."

"Best husband ever."

* * *

 _12th Precinct, NYC  
_

He went into the precinct to meet her this time.

"Yo, Castle," Javier Esposito greeted him first when he walked by Beckett's old desk. "Does this mean you're back too?"

Part of him wishing the answer was yes. He missed this, and no amount of private investigating would ever come close to working at the 12th with Beckett and the boys. "No. I've decided to annoy Beckett only at home from now on."

"Fine then," Ryan chimed in. "We'll try and pick up your slack here."

"Please do," Castle told him. He guiltily wondered whether they'd ever joke around with him again if they knew what he was going to ask Beckett to do.

"Boss is in her office," Esposito pointed out.

"Thanks." Castle walked to the Captain's door where he saw his wife sitting at her desk, intensely focused on the computer screen in front of her.

She loved this work and she was amazing at it and now- his insides clenched at the thought.

"Hey," She looked up from the screen and smiled when she saw him. Gorgeous in her dark suit and dark eye-make up. When in the world had she found time for that this morning? "You made it inside the building today. I knew you couldn't stay away for long."

His throat was tight. This was so damn unfair. "You ready to head home?"

She nodded. Her attention back on the computer screen. "Give me five minutes."

"Sure." It gave him the chance to sit down on the sofa-bench in her office, take out his phone and pretend to check e-mails. When in fact he held up his camera to deftly capture a few candid photos without her noticing. Asleep or deep-in-thought were his favourite off-guard Beckett moments.

"Stop taking my picture," she mumbled from behind the screen. "You know that drives me crazy."

"Don't flatter yourself, Beckett. I'm checking e-mails."

"Uh huh."

He took another one, and this time he was sure she didn't notice. Annoyed ranked high among his favourites too.

It took longer than five minutes for her to finish and she stretched her arms out with a groan when she did finally turn off her lap top. "Castle-" she tilted her head a little, observing him. "Are you ready?"

He put his phone away. "Yeah, sure."

"I mean-" Her expression was serious now. "To talk."

"Sure," he lied. "But not here." Truth was he didn't want to have this conversation. He wanted to go one week were there wasn't something ominous hanging over them. One week where he could watch her when she wasn't looking and marvel at how damn lucky he was, without worrying that everything might fall apart again.

"No," she agreed. "Not here."

"Let's go home," he suggested.

"What if Alexis and your mother are there?"

Good point. They needed privacy for this. "Old Haunt," he told her. "I'll call Glenn and have him put aside the booth at the back for us."

"Or the office downstairs."

"Or that." Castle got up and grabbed her trench coat from the hanger in the corner of the office and held it up so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. "Let's go."

* * *

 _Old Haunt, NYC_

The Old Haunt was packed when they got there, so the basement office it was. Glenn, the guy who ran the place for him now, was too busy upstairs to have time to come downstairs and do paper work.

Castle had grabbed a bottle of 20-year old single malt from the bar along with two glasses and poured them both some. "I ordered us some food too," he told Beckett, who made herself comfortable on the lumpy old couch where Glenn sometimes took power naps after the lunch rush.

"Castle-" There was no mistaking the irritation in her voice.

"What?"

"Since yesterday you've been avoiding this," she told him, running an index finger along the rim of her glass without drinking it. Maybe it was her way of telling she wanted to be stone cold sober for this conversation. "We didn't come here to have bangers and mashed and drink Scotch."

"How'd you know that's what I ordered?"

"Castle?" She narrowed her brows. Annoyed. Not having any of it tonight.

And it would be nothing compared to how angry she'd be once he'd told her what he needed her to do. It's why he kept putting this off. Because there was no right way to say this.

"I want you to stop the investigation," he told her. He had to spit it out in a way that wouldn't leave doubts as to what he meant. "If taking down LokSat means losing our family. It's not worth it. I won't risk it."

"I told you, I can't single-handedly stop this investigation," Beckett looked at him in disbelief.

"Obstruct it then," he told her. "Do whatever you can to make sure they don't find anything."

It killed him. Saying it. Seeing her stunned reaction.

"You're serious?"

"I'm asking you to choose your family over a case. Over your job. Because-" The words got caught in his throat and he had to force them out. One by one. "If you bringing down this whole organization is at the cost of my mother's, or my daughter's life...it's not worth it. Maybe that makes me horrible and selfish, but it's the truth, Kate. If that's the cost...I can't live with it. It's the one thing I could never forgive you for."

"Castle-" To his surprise, Beckett reached for his hand. Took it into both of hers and caressed it with her thumb. "Babe," Her voice was soft. Gentle. "You're letting Smith's threats panic you and terrify you. He's using blackmail and scare tactics."

"No. They're more than that. We both know it." He extricated his hand from hers, pulled away from it. "These are the same people who threatened you and then put a bullet in your chest. The same group of people that shot you full of heroin and when that didn't do the job, they tried to frame you for a murder you didn't commit. Yeah, I'm scared. You have no idea how scared I am. And so were you, you were so afraid that these guys would come after me that you _left_ me. Don't try and delude yourself into thinking that Smith is spouting idle threats. The guy has tried to keep you alive ever since Montgomery died trying and he's been right about everything. This isn't me believing the crazy theories of a lunatic on a soap box in Washington Square Park."

"If don't pursue this then no one-"

"I don't care," he cut her off. "If you bring that whole organization down another one will pop up in its place in less than a month. That's how drug cartels work. It's not a war you can ever win."

"Well in that case, I might as well stop trying to put any criminal behind bars." Beckett looked at him incredulously. "What the hell kind of logic is that?"

"Not any criminal," he corrected her. "Just the one that's gonna kill our family if you do."

"Castle-"

"I know," he couldn't look at her just then. "It's wrong and it's unfair, what I'm asking you. But-"

"But?"

"I never ask you for anything, Beckett," he added softly. "Never felt the need to. But I'm asking you this one thing. This one time. I'm begging you-to let this go. For us. Please."

Beckett pushed herself off the couch they were sitting on. "I can't believe what you're suggesting-"

Castle reached for her wrist. "Kate, where are you going?"

She yanked out of his grasp. "I...I need air. Like you did last night. Except I mean it. I don't mean I need to hop into a taxi and go home. I need to get out here. Away from you. Before I say something that I'll regret."

"Say whatever you have to. Yell at me, tell me what an asshole I am for asking you to do this. Just don't go," he pleaded. "Please."

"What else is there to discuss?" Fury lined her beautiful face. "I either agree to this and we're okay or I don't and you'll never forgive me. You're asking me to choose between you and my career, right?"

"Yes." It was true. Castle felt his eyes watering, hating himself in that moment. Everything about this was wrong, and yet he didn't feel like he had another choice. "I am. I'm sorry."

She nodded and there were tears rolling down her face too. "Yeah, me too."

Turning around to leave the office Beckett nearly crashed into the waitress who came down with their food.

"Mr. Castle," the waitress gave Rick an apologetic glance. Aware that she'd stepped right into a bitter argument. "I'm sorry, your wife, she-"

"It's okay. Not your fault," he told her and mustered a weak smile. "Thank you."

Except nothing was okay anymore.

He stared blankly at the two plates of food after the young woman quickly left the office, wondering whether he might have lost his wife tonight.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter XIX**

 _Trinity Church Cemetery, NYC_

 **A/N:** Not sure I'll be able to post tomorrow, so getting out of the Sunday groove this week and putting this up a day early. Thanks for reading! :)

* * *

Dark skies and light drops of rain enveloped her the time Beckett arrived at the cemetery following a lengthy subway ride north. The temperatures had dipped enough that the raindrops might be snow in an hour or two but for now, it was an ice-cold drizzle that chilled and sprayed her skin without really soaking it.

It made her shiver in the empty cemetery, as she stood across from her mother's gravestone. No one else was crazy enough to come here at this time of the day, in this kind of miserable weather, and that suited Kate Beckett just fine. Last thing she wanted was company.

What she did want was to sit down. She still hadn't shaken the exhaustion of the last two months and still felt like she could do with a week's worth of sleep, so that maybe she'd stop coming close to nodding off during shift briefings at the precinct. It had almost happened today. Thank god for the couch in her office that gave her the chance to have ten-minute power naps at lunch.

 _If you resign you can sleep for more than a week_

Beckett sat down on the wet ground and for a second it was tempting. To let it all go. Her one-woman crusades for justice. The weight of the precinct on her shoulders. Bringing down Loksat.

What if she stepped away from it all and just...lived for a while? Travelled the world. Read every book she never had enough time for anymore. Got a dog. Took her Dad to a home game at least once a week and let him know how much he meant to her. Got to really know her step-daughter. Learned another language.

But the pleasant thoughts lasted only for a moment until the anger rose up in her throat again as she stared at her mother's tombstone. It wasn't the thought of resigning that made her so furious, it was _how_ she would have to do it.

 _By betraying every oath I took when I became a cop._

This wasn't who she was. Obstructing investigations and letting killers get away with murder.

Ever since her mother's death, she had found a drive to fight against those more powerful than she, who thought they could use that power to squash everything good. That's who she was. It's what finally brought Bracken to justice, even after everyone had told her it was an impossible fight.

 _"It's not the only thing you are, Katie. You had help from someone who was with you every step of the way and then reminded you that there was more to life than this. That there's more to you than justice and vengeance."_

Beckett's eyes widened as she turned towards her mother's gravestone. Could have sworn it was her voice she heard in her head. But of course it wasn't. She wiped a layer of rain from her forehead with the back of her hand. God, she really was tired.

"Any other words of wisdom while you're at it, Mom?" Beckett said aloud, staring straight ahead at the gravestone. But the only response this time were the three Latin words in her line of vision, etched into the marble underneath her mother's name. _Vincit Omnia Veritas_. Truth conquers all.

What was the truth worth if she lost her husband in the process? Lost the only family she had since her mother died?

It wasn't her mother's voice that echoed through her skull, it was Roy Montgomery's.

 _"There are no victories, there's only the battle."_

And she'd lost this one.

"Tell me I'm wrong, Mom. Tell me there's another way out."

Of course the gravestone had no answer for her. If she wanted parental wisdom, she probably should have gone to see the one who was still alive. The one she couldn't face because he might end up a target of her latest crusade.

Beckett had come here on this cold late November evening because it was her mother's death that had shaped her. Made her who she was. Maybe she expected her to keep doing it; shape her, guide her, even in death.

Instead, her legs had fallen asleep and the wet ground had started to seep through her clothes, leaving her so cold that she could barely feel her limbs.

 _Stop being stupid,_ Beckett chided herself, pushing herself off the ground clumsily, her fingers digging into the wet earth below. She stumbled like a drunk for the first couple of steps she took. It was so dark now that she could barely see beyond her mother's gravestone and the sound of her teeth chattering was the only thing she heard in the emptiness around her.

 _I'm sorry, Mom. I wish I knew what to do. What the right decision is. But I don't._

It was time to go home, even though she wasn't any wiser or any less angry than she had been before she got here.

* * *

 _Castle Residence, NYC_

Castle was watching television without absorbing a thing. He'd been staring at the screen for two hours now without changing the channel, but if someone had asked him what he'd seen he wouldn't be able to say. All he could tell was that it was a medical drama in which half the doctors and nurses were involved with each other.

Castle leaned forward on the couch and checked the time on his Iphone. 10:13pm. Five minutes later than the last time he'd checked. She'd been gone for hours and he was starting to doubt she'd come home.

What if she'd asked him the same thing he'd asked of her?

 _These threats to our family are terrifying. I need you to botch your next novel and then give up your writing career for good. Because I'm convinced that's the only thing that will stop them._

It's all he'd ever wanted, since he was eleven years old. To write.

Castle's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the loft door opening. He turned his head around to see his wife stepping through it. Could feel the tension leave his body the moment she did. At least she was home.

Beckett didn't say a word as she hung up her coat. It looked completely soaked, as though she'd been outside ever since she'd stormed out of the Old Haunt earlier tonight.

"Beckett-" he started, letting her name hang in the air, unable to think of anything else to say.

He pushed himself off the couch and stepped towards her. Wanted to envelop her and bring her into his space, as he always did when she was nearby.

"I don't have an answer for you," she said, stepping back before he got close enough to reach out to her.

"It's okay."

She shrugged. "Not really."

"Come to bed," he told her. "You look frozen."

"I-uh," She look conflicted. Sad. "I can't. Not tonight."

"Then where-"

"Gonna take a hot shower and sleep in the guest room."

"I see," the words barely escaped his throat. She'd never slept anywhere but in his bedroom since moving into the loft. Not even on that night when he had the worst cough and cold in the history of mankind and had insisted, no, _pleaded_ , that she stay far away from him. Because that was one thing he did not want to give her. Never mind that he'd keep her up all night.

 _"Stop being silly. For better or worse. That's the what the vows said. I dunno about you, but I meant them."_

 _"I feel gross. I am gross. Don' wanna feel guildy for making you sick doo."_

 _"Says the guy who held back my hair when I puked my guts out after having to prove to the boys I could hold my liquor better than them."_

 _"Nod the same. Thad wasn'd contagious."_

 _"It is the same. Gross is gross. Now stop protesting. I can take you on a good day, never mind when you're all weak and sick like this."_

Of course she'd been right. As if he had the strength to pick a fight with her in his incapacitated state.

Neither of them had slept much that night. They'd put on a sci-fi marathon and Beckett didn't even argue when he'd picked the short lived Joss Whedon show he loved so much (and she hated). She'd made him three fresh batches of herbal tea with honey, disposed of his mound of tissues and forced him to take his cold medication until he had fallen into a restless slumber with his feverish, clogged up head resting in her lap and her hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

Even in that germ-filled misery she hadn't left his bedroom. Nor had she cursed him when she came down with the same thing a few days later.

"Kate-"

She turned around.

"I love you." What else was there to say?

Her brown-green eyes were sombre. "I love you too."

Then she walked past him and went upstairs to the guest room.

* * *

 _Later_

Beckett's head hurt and she was still cold after the long, hot shower. Still cold after draping a wool blanket over the comforter and huddling underneath them both on the rarely used queen-sized bed. Neither of them was a substitute for the warmth of her husband's body.

Still it didn't take her long before she drifted off.

She was so tired all the time that falling asleep was never a problem, but thanks to the nightmares that plagued her after Rikers, staying asleep was a bigger challenge.

Tonight she found herself in a litter-strewn alley and Castle was standing at the end of it. The sound of gunfire filled her head.

 _"Castle what you doing here?" And why the hell wasn't he wearing his vest?_

 _He never got a chance to answer her. The bullets hit him first. One after the other, peppering his body with holes._

 _No!_

 _Beckett ran towards him and for some bizarre, inexplicable reason not a single bullet hit her. Castle took them all._

 _His face was a mangled, bloody mess by the time she reached him, lying motionless on the dirty concrete ground. A chunk of it was gone, replaced by blood and mangled flesh and bone. Some of the holes that dotted his face were big enough that she could stick her thumbs into them. One of his blue eyes was hanging an inch outside of its socket._

 _Beckett screamed._

 _It was all she could do._

 _Scream and scream and scream._

"Kate?"

The sound of the familiar voice jerked her awake.

Alexis Castle standing in the doorway. Petrified.

Beckett sat up and sucked in a deep breath of air, willing her body to stop shaking.

"Are you okay? I heard you from my room."

Beckett nodded, not sure she trusted her voice.

"You don't look okay."

"Just- a dream. Sorry." The words sounded far away to her ears. "Sorry- if I woke you."

Alexis's pale face and wide blue eyes looked ghostly in the moonlight streaming through the window of the guest room. "Can I get you something?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Castle suddenly appeared behind his daughter, a full head and a half taller, dwarfing her next to him. He gave Alexis's shoulders a squeeze. "It's fine, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

Alexis disappeared from the doorway and Castle stepped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "Kate?"

She was crying now. Thick tears that were streaming down her face and blurring her vision.

Castle crawled into bed with her. He wrapped an arm around her and tried to get her to lie down but she pushed him away.

"Don't-" She told him grabbing a tissue from the bedside table and blowing her nose. This was so wrong. Him coming here, wanting to comfort her when she was the one who'd left their bedroom tonight.

"Don't what?"

"I don't need-" _This. You._ Except a batch of fresh tears was determined to betray her words and tell him otherwise.

"Maybe you don't but I do," he told her. "I need to be here."

She wiped away the latest tears.

A gentle tug at her arm and suddenly she was lying down again, on her side, staring right into his handsome, wide-awake face, looking at her with the kind of concern that made her feel all sorts of guilty. His hand stretched towards her and she felt the pad of his thumb brush off wetness under her eyes.

"How do you know I haven't decided to ignore Smith's threats? To keep trying to bring these guys down, because that's all I know? How do you-"

"Shhh-" His thumb traced her skin down to her lips. "Doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?"

"My wife's in tears after she woke up screaming," he said woefully. "That's what matters right now." He inched close, cupping her face in his strong hands, until his lips were on her forehead. "Just breathe, okay?" he whispered. "Don't think about anything else."

She let him snake an arm around her. Even after all this time, the depth o f his love still amazed her in moments like this. Moments when she was so certain she didn't deserve it.

Closing her eyes, Kate exhaled and slowly her heartbeat steadied. Such was the effect of his touch.

"I'm so scared of losing you," she confessed.

Castle smiled and she saw relief in his face. "Of all the things to be afraid of at the moment, put that one at the bottom of your list, 'kay?"

"You were shot and killed in my dream. It was awful."

He inched even closer. "I'm here. I'm fine and so are you."

Kate wrapped one of her legs around his. Wiped away the tears so she could really see his face, unmarred by bullets, and then ran the tips of her finger over every inch. Just to make sure. Strong jaw line, soft eye-lids, forehead, laugh lines, and smooth lips. Lips she knew so well for all the marvellous things they could do to her.

"Handsy, Beckett. I like it."

Those lips caressed her face and the gentle cadence of his voice slowly evened out her breathing. This man. Who loved her even when she was impossibly hard to love.

"Kate-"

"Hmm?"

"You decide what's right in your heart, 'kay? I made a choice that I can live with and I want you to do the same. No matter how hard it is. Me loving you, it's never gonna change, even if this thing forces us apart."

"Rick?"

"Hmm?"

"Stop making me cry."

His eyes closed and his lips curved into another smile. "Cry baby."

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep again and the feel of his skin on hers was the last wakeful moment she remembered.

* * *

 _Next morning_

"Beckett." His voice was a whisper on the periphery of her consciousness. Growing steadily louder until she was fully aware and awake.

Kate opened her eyes only to see her husband's face only an inch or so from hers, her body still wrapped around his, impossibly close. Had they really slept like this all night?

"It's seven thirty," he told her with a yawn. "Much as I'd love to watch you sleep all day and take photos to document it all, I know you'll kill me if you find out I was awake and didn't let you know that you slept through the alarm."

" _Again_?"

"Are you surprised when you're up half the night lately?"

Beckett pushed back a handful of hair and forced herself to sit up. "Sorry I scared Alexis last night."

Castle shrugged. "She's a big girl. Woulda been more fun to see her face if I'd been in the room at the time when she heard you screaming."

Beckett bit back a grin. "You're horrible."

"I know. This is why our bedroom is downstairs."

"Rick-" It was so very clear now. All the answers she'd desperately been searching for in vain last night at her mother's grave were staring her in the face this morning. Literally. This was what made her life worth living. He did.

She'd realized it once before, when she was dangling off a roof certain that her life was seconds away from ending. The only thing she'd cared about in that moment was seeing him one more time and letting him know he meant the world to her.

"What is it?"

"I'll do what I can to stall the investigation," she told him. "Then I'll resign."

"Kate-" His face was a mask of conflict. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I hate this. Hate what I'm asking you to do."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I'm asking you to go against everything you believe in."

Kate studied her husband, who was still lying down, his messy bed hair nestled into the pillow. If it really was seven thirty already she didn't have time for this. Needed to get to work. _Where I'll be betraying my own cops soon._

He stared up at her. "I don't want you to resent me because of this. Because that will end us in a way that's far worse than if we split up."

A lop-sided smile lifted her lips and Beckett pushed an errant strand of Castle's hair off his face, allowing her to bend down and kiss his forehead. "You're trying to protect your family. I could never resent you for that. You're stuck with me. Like it or not."

He was so serious. So unlike him. "Promise me."

"Promise."

"I'm so sorry, Kate."

She put an index finger on his lips. "Stop that, Rick. I'm the one who got us into this. I'm the one who decided to pursue this in spite of how much Rita warned me against it. I almost lost my life chasing this dragon, then I was imprisoned and probably would have ended up on death row if it weren't for Vikram putting a camera in the living-room. It put you through hell. You're right, if I keep pursuing this, then maybe we'll bring down a drug cartel or two, but if I have to do it at the expense of someone we love, _at the expense of losing you_ , then it's not worth it. I'll never forgive myself and they'll have won anyway."

He was the one who reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear now. "Still hate what I'm asking you to do."

"I hate the way I'm stopping this," she admitted. "Makes me sick just thinking about it but don't you dare blame yourself. When I came back, I made the decision to put you and our family first. It's time I did that. By any means necessary. Not sure what I'll do after I resign, but I'd like to think that maybe there's more to me now than just a crusader and a cop."

Castle's blue eyes were moist. "You're extraordinary. Always have been."

"You're the first person who's made me feel like I could be."

He did grab her arms now, both of them, making her lose her balance and crash down on top of him. Beckett could feel his heart pounding away underneath her own, their bodies pressed into each other. She stretched out and squished her face into him, groaning with pleasure when his hand ran down her back and pressed into it at the same time.

Nothing mattered more than this, she realized. Castle in her life. The people they loved most safe and sound. If the world burned around them in the meantime, she'd make that sacrifice. She'd bear the burden of guilt, it wouldn't be any heavier than the burden of justice.

Beckett pushed herself off him, letting her long hair fall around her face, like a curtain around both of their heads.

He pulled her down and kissed her, his tongue warm, heavy and needy inside her mouth. Left her a little breathless when it was over, when she finally, reluctantly pulled away from him, even as his hands made their way under her t-shirt and caressed her breasts.

She really, _really_ , needed to get dressed. Not undressed.

Kate smiled at him, overwhelmed by a swirl of powerful emotions that toyed with her. Guilt and melancholy were near the top of the whirlpool, but there was elation and determination too; an awareness that she'd made the right choice, no matter how terrible it was.


	20. Chapter 20

**XX**

 _12 Precinct, NYC_

 _Two weeks later_

"Yo, boss," Javier Esposito's head poked into her office. "Do you have a minute?"

Beckett pulled her focus from the spreadsheet on her screen and made eye contact across the room. "Sure. Come in."

Closing her office door behind him, Esposito made no move to sit down. "What's goin' on with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You took us off the Singh murder," Esposito accused. "Not just me. All three of us. Me, Ryan and Fung."

They'd already this argument, Beckett thought. Both Esposito and Ryan had already voiced their disgruntled disbelief the moment she'd given them the order.

"There were three other murder cases that took precedence," she reminded him. "Recent high-profile cases in our jurisdiction, including the German tourist that was stabbed in broad daylight two blocks from this precinct. The mayor himself told me to make it a priority."

"Fine," Esposito conceded. "Make it a priority. There are two detectives currently twiddling their thumbs at this precinct, waiting for a dead body. Instead, you pull all three of us off the Singh case."

Beckett set down the pen she'd been fiddling with. "When the mayor asks me to prioritize a case then I'm going to send him my best detectives." She let the words hang in the air, searching Esposito's face for an indication that she'd succeeded in placating him. She didn't find any. "I didn't realize that I needed to run my case assignments by you."

"You don't need to run them by me, _Captain_ ," he emphasized. "But it would be good if your tactical decisions made sense."

Beckett's face didn't give anything away. "Duly noted, Detective. Was there anything else?"

Esposito frowned and he made eye contact with her for an uncomfortably long moment. Waiting for her to blink first. Beckett didn't.

"No, Ma'am."

She waited until he was out the door until she exhaled, goose bumps lining her arms. His irritation didn't surprise her. She didn't expect it from Fung, but she did from Esposito and Ryan, because she'd have done the exact same thing if she was in their shoes, insubordination be damned. Of course Esposito was the one who came first. Javi was never afraid of calling her on her bullshit. It was his best and worst quality all at once.

Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose and pressed her eyes shut, before she re-opened them. Watched him stride across the bullpen through her glass windows, clearly pissed off.

It wouldn't be the last time he'd come in here to grill her. Beckett was certain of it.

Her time to hold off the resignation was running out.

* * *

 _Castle Residence, NYC_

 _Next day_

"What about this one?"

Castle plopped himself down next to her on the sofa, got right into her personal space and glanced at the dog she pointed to on the screen. A lap top was resting on her thighs. "You know that's a St. Bernard, yes?"

"He's _so_ cute, Rick."

"You do know how big they get, right?"

"Ah, come on. Lots of room here."

"I don't know if there's room for two big boys in this loft."

Kate snorted. "Do we need to get a Chihuahua to appease your fragile ego?"

"Yes, please. Or at least a dog that won't take up the entire couch when we have sci-fi marathons."

Beckett closed the lap top with a sigh. "If you keep rejecting every dog I suggest, I'll just bring one home one day. Surprise you."

"I do like surprises."

Her eyes lit up, amused. Beckett set down the lap top on the coffee table and pushed herself up onto his lap, one of her knees wedged tight against each side of his thighs, straddling him. "I like big boys."

She curved her back, cat-like, and cradled his face in her hands before leaning in to kiss him. She was so soft and warm in those pyjama shorts and flannel top that loved taking off. Castle kissed her back and let his fingers roam into her long, tangled hair. They'd already spent most of the rainy Saturday morning doing nothing and that suited him just fine. His only plan was a sudden urge to take her back to bed.

Knowing how much she liked it, Castle pressed his teeth into the soft flesh behind her lower lip and let his tongue stroke the outside. She rewarded with a groan of pleasure that immediately made him want to hear it again.

Her hips began to rock into his pelvis while her fingers toyed with his earlobe. Made him want to push down her shorts, or yank off her soft flannel top or...both. If only he had two pairs of hands. Then he could do it simultaneously. How cool would that be?

Kate pulled back and her beautiful eyes studied him with a lazy grin. "You're such a good kisser, Castle. Sometimes I wanna know where you learned all your tricks but then I don't."

"It's not an acquired skill that took a lot of practice," he told her. "Inspiration is the key and I have plenty."

"Oh yeah?" He could have sworn he caught her blush. His stunning wife who was still flattered on the rare occasions when he caught her off guard with a compliment. Made him love her even more.

"Oh yeah," he repeated, hands on her waist as he leaned in for another kiss that trailed her jaw and neck. Kate tilted her head back to give him better access and the purrs that came from her throat truly were inspiring.

 _Bedroom,_ he thought as they approached the point of no return. God knows they had the energy for another couple of rounds after their massive breakfast.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Martha's voice boomed through the living room. "Get a room, kids."

Beckett jumped off his lap with such lightning speed that Castle thought she might fly off the couch and end up on the floor. He clumsily grabbed her wrist to make sure it didn't happen.

Martha Rodgers was an expert at making an entrance. In all the worst ways.

"Mother," he choked out with clenched lips.

Martha waved her hands through the air as she flitted across the living room. "Oh, don't worry," she announced. "I'm leaving. I'm having brunch with Edmund at Norma's. You can resume your, ahem, activities momentarily."

"Norma's, huh?" Castle wiped his lips, grateful that Beckett hadn't been wearing lipstick. "Hope he's paying."

"Oh, Richard." Martha's look let him know that it was a ludicrous question. "My generation still knows how to treat the fairer sex."

Beckett grinned. "Bye, Martha. Have fun."

"Oh, I doubt I'll have as much fun as you two," she said with a wink before vanishing out the door.

Castle squeezed Beckett's bare thigh and sank back into the couch. "She has the worst timing. Even worse than the boys."

Beckett snuggled back into him. "Our fault. We really shouldn't be making out on the couch when your entire family is at home."

"You know sometimes I wish we'd kept your apartment so we had a place all to ourselves."

"A love shack?"

"Something like that."

"Too late." Beckett giggled and then stifled a yawn. "Okay, how is it possible to be tired when all I've done is eat breakfast and look at dog photos?"

Castle pressed a hand against her chest and gave her a nudge. Made her lie down on the sofa. "Have a nap."

"A nap? At noon?"

"Why not?"

She stretched her long, bare legs across his thighs. Stirrings things inside of him again. "I do like naps."

Castle rested his hand on her stomach and let his thumb graze underneath her shirt. Then he trailed his fingers along her calf before sliding out from underneath her legs and getting off the couch. "I like watching you nap."

"Or you could nap with me?"

He wanted it. Wanted to pull her up and lead her back into the bedroom. But she wouldn't get any sleep there. Neither of them would.

He was full of restless energy now and wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her and Castle knew she'd be a willing participant. But he'd been making a conscious effort to do whatever it took to help her recover from those five weeks of hell at Rikers. If she wanted a nap, he damn well had enough willpower to let her nap. Yes, yes, he did.

He'd already cleared their social calendar, so she could sleep their weekends away if that's what she wanted. He made her hearty home-cooked meals, ran hot bubble baths nearly every night and bought her a half dozen books that he knew would slow her down because she'd be unable to resist reading them.

His efforts were paying off because she looked so much better than she did two weeks ago. She'd even slept through the night for the first time yesterday.

Best, and most surprising of all, was that she hadn't resisted. Beckett was fully aware of what he was doing, coddling and mothering her, and, she let him do it without a single word of protest. It finally made him feel like her partner again.

"I'd love to," Castle told her. "But I really should get some writing done. You taking a nap is a good excuse." That wasn't a complete lie.

"Fine then," Beckett grabbed a cushion and curled into the sofa.

He stared at her for a few seconds, just to annoy her and get an eye roll, before he turned around with a chuckle.

"Castle-"

"Hmm?"

"You know what else I'd love?"

"Besides me napping with you?"

"Yeah," she turned onto her back again and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "Besides that. I'd love a smoothie."

"Another one?" He'd already made her one before breakfast. It was their new post-Rikers tradition, even though her throat was fine now and she could swallow whole fruits without any pain.

"Maybe you're right. I shouldn't."

 _Idiot,_ he scolded himself. She could still stand to gain some weight. "'Course you should. Tell me what kind you want."

"Okay." She looked a bit like Alexis used to when she was ten and got her way. Triumphant. And adorable. "Surprise me."

Castle made his way back into the kitchen and decided on tropical. He tossed a mix of cut up mangoes, papayas and pineapple chunks into the blender along with orange juice, coconut syrup and vanilla frozen yoghurt. He even found a cocktail umbrella, a Hawaiian party leftover, inside a drawer and he stuck it on top.

"Have to warn you," he announced when he waltzed back into the living room with the drink. "This might become a new favourite."

But his words fell on deaf ears, because Beckett, stretched out side-ways on the sofa, face squished into a cushion, had already dozed off. Castle resisted the urge to grab his cell phone and snap a photo. Instead, he put the drink back in the fridge and then took a blanket out from the bedroom closet and draped it over her.

His eyes rested on her for a long, still moment and it did something to his heart, to see her like this, back at home with him, content and relaxed. Made him believe that maybe every awful, terrible moment of the last three months was worth it.

* * *

 _Later_

Beckett stretched on the sofa, until her bare toes touched the leather arm-rest at one end, while her arms curled around the arm-rest behind her. Then she moved a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn and heard her stomach growl in response.

 _Seriously?_

She'd gotten up this morning, let Castle feed her a massive breakfast, talk her into a nap and now she was starving again. How was that even possible?

If this was what life was like after letting the burden of being a cop roll off her shoulders, she'd be two-hundred pounds in no time.

 _Not happening._

She'd have to find another job or a gym membership or... _something_. Stat.

Beckett pushed herself off the couch and walked towards the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and saw a tall smoothie-filled glass inside, covered with cellophane on top. She removed the plastic wrap and took the glass with her into the study where her husband was typing away, taking a sip as she walked.

Castle was so focused on the computer screen in front of him that he barely noticed her sliding onto his lap. She gave him a peck on the cheek but he turned his head until his lips were on hers.

"You taste like coconut," he pointed out. Gave her legs a little tug and pulled her closer.

"It's your smoothie."

"You like it?"

"It's _so_ good. Here," Beckett handed him the glass so he could try it.

"That is good. How'd you get so lucky to find a guy who makes you these?"

"He showed up at a murder investigation eight years ago and never left. I tried hard to get rid of him but then one day he brought a coffee machine to the precinct and the rest is history."

"There's gotta be more to the story than that. More than coffee."

"Hey...stop! Leave me some."

"I'll make another one."

Beckett groaned. "We cannot spent the entire day at home eating, sleeping and drinking smoothies."

"Why not?"

"Castle, come on." She leaned back into him and loved the way her body moulded into his in a perfect fit. Her strong bear of a man wasn't the least bit dwarfed by her height.

"We can burn off the calories in the bedroom."

"Espo's getting suspicious," she told him, trying to ignoring the way his fingers kept sliding under the fabric of her clothes. She'd wanted to tell him this since last night. "I've decided to hand in my resignation on Monday."

Castle pushed forward on his chair and put his hands on her upper arms, turning her around so that she was facing him. His playfulness suddenly gone. "Already?"

"I know the plan was to wait a little longer, until the investigation came to a halt. But I've been stonewalling this thing so much, people are getting suspicious and rightfully so. I might be able to hold off Esposito and Ryan because I'm their captain, but once Gates or the Chief start asking questions, they're going to want explanations that I won't be able to give."

"Just like that your career's over." Castle's face was serious when he turned off his lap top. "I hate this."

"Hey," Beckett draped an arm around his neck. "Not your fault. I made this decision."

She felt his body tense against hers. "Still hate it."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Me too." Most of all she hated that after everything she'd gone through, LokSat was going to get away with this. With killing Vikram and trying to kill her and going on to do God knows what else. Never mind that she already missed being a cop. It was all she'd done since graduating from college.

 _Not my fight anymore._

She had to keep saying it. She'd already accomplished the impossible, by finding and taking down her mother's killer, who just so happened to be one of the most powerful men in the country. Losing this battle wouldn't negate the ones she did win.

"I'm sorry," the words came softly from him and Beckett turned back around until her forehead rested against his. She pressed her index finger against his lips. "Don't. This is all on me. I dragged your family into this, I'm gonna take them out of it now."

"Love you."

"I know."

"Okay, Princess Leia."

"I do still have that slave girl outfit you bought me last Valentine's."

"The one you wore on my birthday? The one that made all my fantasies come true in a single evening?"

Her lips curled into a smile. He'd made a couple of hers come true too that night too. "Uh huh."

"You know, if you want to go and dig that out and..."

Beckett thought of the scar that now ran across her mid-section thanks to that bullet graze she hastily stitched up herself inside a dry cleaner. In the handful of times that they'd made love since then, Castle had never given her a reason to feel self-conscious about it. In fact, he once trailed its edges with a soft line of kisses. Still. Beckett had a feeling that both her bikini and slave girl outfit days were over for good.

"Yes?"

Beckett grinned. "No."

"No?"

"No." Beckett slid off his lap and grabbed his hand. "Come on, Castle. Let's go out. Walk the High Line or watch a game of chess at Washington Square Park. Or how about we stroll up to 59th and peek into the Humane Society?"

"Ugh...it's cold out."

But Beckett was unrelenting. She pulled him up out of the chair. "I'll buy you a hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate bits on top."

"That better not be another tease."

"Promise."

"I could help you find that outfit-"

"Castle, we're getting a dog. Especially now that I'll have all the damn time in the world to walk him."

"All right, all right."

* * *

 _Twelfth Precinct, NYC_

 _Two days later_

"Whoa...what are you doing?"

Javier Esposito had been so engrossed in the data on his computer screen that didn't see his partner sneaking up behind his back, peering over his shoulders.

"I thought Beckett made it clear that we're off this case."

"Hey-" Javier furrowed his brows. Annoyed. "What I do off the clock is none of her business. Or yours."

"Fine then." Ryan shrugged. "Except it's 9am now and I'm pretty sure you're on the clock and we've got an unsolved homicide that's actually on our case load."

Esposito swallowed his irritation. He'd take a bullet for his partner but sometimes Kevin Ryan's unwavering need to play by the rules was a bit much. He swiveled his chair around and got into Ryan's face, close enough that he wouldn't have to raise his voice. "You don't think it's strange that Beckett's basically buried the biggest case in the precinct?"

"I don't think it's strange that the mayor wants her to prioritize the German tourist stabbed to death in the middle of the day. She's got people breathing down her neck from all sides now."

It clearly wasn't the answer Esposito was hoping for.

"This is _Beckett_ we're talking about. If a guy died trying to save her life, you can bet she's gonna pull out all stops to get him justice. Except this time she's not. Instead, she's doing everything she can to stop us from catching Vikram's killers."

"That is not true." Ryan replied. "We spent a week on the case without getting anywhere. It's normal for her to start pulling back resources when there's new ones pilling up right in our jurisdiction. Any captain would."

"Bullshit," Esposito shot back. "I'm gonna say it once more. This is Beckett, the same woman who spent over a decade getting justice for her mother's murder. If she was getting pressure from above to drop this thing, she'd push right back. That's what she does."

"It's a little different when it's her mother, don't you think?"

"Not when these same guys tried to kill her and then lock her up for life. You'd think she'd be at least as pissed off about it as I am."

Kevin Ryan pondered it. "You have a point."

"I think," he leaned in closer to his partner. "That someone _is_ breathing down her neck. But it's not the chief or the mayor. I think it's the same people who killed Vikram."

"Whoa-" Ryan jerked back. "That's a hell of an accusation you're making without any proof."

Esposito leaned back in his seat. Ryan had a point. He couldn't exactly start making accusations about his boss willingly sabotaging an investigation with nothing but his gut feelings to back it up. Even though he'd already suggested as much to Beckett's face.

It just didn't make sense. None of it did.

The sight of Detective Sarah Fung approaching their desk cut through the jumbled thoughts in his brain. Made him notice that she looked miserable. Like someone kicked her puppy. Or like her breakfast was about to come back up.

"Yo, wassup, Fung? Who died?"

Esposito hadn't been crazy about the idea of working with an eager beaver like her but he had to admit the young woman had grown on him. No one at the precinct had given her much notice because no one wanted to work with her former partner. But now that she'd escaped Hansen's clutches, Esposito had a whole new respect for her. She was smart as hell and never missed a single detail at a crime scene. She sort of reminded him of Beckett when he first started working with her nearly a decade ago.

"She resigned," Fung told him, her voice a stunned monotone.

"Who resigned?"

"The Captain."

Esposito laughed. "Yeah, right. As if."

"Wait a minute." Ryan stared at Fung. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"I wouldn't joke about that," she told him and Esposito realized that was true. Fung adored Beckett, in more ways than one. She'd be as shocked and upset about this as he was.

"You're serious?" Esposito questioned. "Beckett resigned?"

"Yeah."

Esposito stared at Ryan in disbelief. "Tell me again that there's nothing goin' on." Then he turned to Fung. "How'd you find out?"

"Just now. Check your e-mails."

Esposito's gut clenched. As if Beckett resigning wasn't disturbing enough, it offended him even more that she hadn't thought to let her former partners know. After everything they'd been through together in the last eight years, he was finding out via Fung who'd read it in an e-mail.

"I'm sure there's a reason that she didn't tell-" Ryan started, reading his thoughts, because of course his partner knew him that well.

"Just don't," Esposito cut him off. He was pissed and he didn't want to hear it. Kate Beckett hadn't been honest with him about a single thing since she'd left her husband to go chase after some drug cartel nearly four months ago.

Whatever her reasons were for shutting everyone out of her life who gave a damn, Esposito didn't care anymore.

If Beckett was done with them and the precinct, without so much as an explanation why, then he was done with her as well. It meant he could pursue the Singh case with less guilt from now on.

Esposito grabbed his suit jacket from his chair.

"Where are you going?" Ryan wanted to know.

"Outside. It stinks in here."

* * *

 _Later_

Kevin Ryan hadn't planned to stay this late but with Fung and Esposito still out in the field, someone had to come back and do the paperwork. They already piled to much of it on Fung as it was. She never protested and Ryan was starting to feel like they were taking advantage of her. It was time to stop.

What he didn't expect when he walked past the Captain's office at close to seven pm was to see Beckett still inside, concentrating on a stack of paperwork of her own. She'd been away on meetings for most of the day. He didn't think she'd come back to the office afterwards.

He really should get home to his very-pregnant wife, Ryan thought, even as his legs propelled him away from the elevator with a mind of their own, right towards Beckett's office.

He knocked once, before opening the door and sticking his head inside. "Hey, boss."

"Hi Ryan." A skeptical look greeted him. On that might've been contemplating whether he was here to play good cop, after Espo's turn as bad cop.

"Great work on the Schmidt case today. Mayor's gonna be happy."

He didn't expect that.

"I sent that report two minutes ago. Don't tell me you read it already?"

"Yeah, well, I never thought being a Captain meant going through this many e-mails. I've gotten better at staying on top of things."

That was a cue if ever he heard one. "So now that you're good at it, you wanna leave?"

She cocked her head to the side and gestured towards the chair across from her desk. Beckett had an eerie way of looking through a person; a spooky ability to see more than what they wanted to reveal. She was using it now, silently cross-examining him with those intelligent, inquisitive eyes. It's what made her so good in the interrogation room.

"Have a seat," she offered.

"Look, I-" Ryan didn't really come here for a grilling. Or did he? He probably did. Except he was thinking he'd be the one doing it. "I just wanted to say congrats. That's all. I mean-I assume you wanted this. That something better came your way. The e-mail was kinda vague. It didn't mention much aside from you leaving."

"There isn't much else to mention."

"Beckett, I-" God, he should have thought this through before stumbling in here blindly. "You know, Espo and I, we know we're one of dozens of officers under your command right now but-"

"No," she corrected him. "You're more than that to me. You _have_ to know that- no matter how lousy I've been at letting you know that lately."

He did know. But it was oddly reassuring to hear her say it. Ryan didn't think he needed the reminder as much Esposito clearly did, but maybe he was wrong. It eased some of the animosity he'd harboured since getting the news this morning. "I gotta be honest, boss, I know Rikers had to have been hell but you came back and we thought maybe things were gonna be, you know, back to normal. But then you take off us off the biggest case in the precinct and less than two weeks later, you resign? We can't wrap our heads around it."

"I know-" Beckett leaned back in her seat and ran a hand through her hair. Tired. She looked so tired that Ryan felt the last vestiges of anger leave him for good. Whatever the reasons were behind her latest actions, this was obviously eating at her too and taking its toll.

He also had a sudden feeling that whatever this was, was way more complicated than he could have imagined this morning.

"I know it doesn't make sense," she admitted. "I'm not expecting you to understand."

"You know, if you're in trouble-" Ryan figured that if he needed a reminder from her that she still considered him and Espo her partners and confidantes, then maybe she needed a reminder from them too. That they were on her side, no matter what. "If there's anything you need, _anything_ -"

"I know," she nodded sombrely. "I know what you and Espo did to try and get me out of Rikers. I'll never forget it. I know I can count on you and you have absolutely nothing to prove to me."

"So let us help you then."

"No-" she shook her head. "Not this time."

"Captain-"

"If you want to help me, make sure Esposito-" She paused, carefully choosing her words. "Make sure he sticks to his cases, all right?"

Ryan bit his tongue. Esposito was right. Someone was strong-arming her. Blackmailing her even, with god knows what kind of threats. Was the resignation a part of it? Ryan wouldn't let his bewildered thoughts go there. He didn't want to consider it.

"Beckett, we've had our backs against a wall before. We can help you-"

"Ryan. No." Her eyes met his with an icy finality that let him know it wasn't up for any further debate. "You can't."

"Al right- all right, boss."

"Kevin," she added. "How _is_ Espo?"

"Pissed," he admitted with a lop sided smile.

"I'll talk to him."

"Maybe it's better you don't," Ryan told her. "He won't back off."

"I know."

"I get it now," he told her. "Before we had Sarah-Grace I used to be so sure about what mattered and what didn't. But I had no idea. Things are a lot less black and white now. I'd do anything for that little girl. For Jenny, for Sarah-Grace and our unborn baby. Anything."

Beckett nodded and he thought he heard her whisper a subtle thanks.

"You gave a helluva lot to this precinct, Beckett. Nothing is ever gonna change that."

Another subtle, silent acknowledgment. Gratitude. Kevin saw gratitude too and it made him glad that he decided to come see her.

"Thanks, Ryan."

"'Night, boss."

* * *

 _One week later_

She snuck up on him as he was fastening his tie in front of the bathroom mirror. Wove her arms around him and stood on her tip toes to in order to lean her chin on his shoulder.

Beckett saw both their reflections in the mirror. Her long hair spilling over his nimble hands and messing up the knot he'd been trying to tie.

He turned around and bumped his forehead into hers. "Beckett-stop distracting me. This is an important meeting at Black Pawn. The results of it might pay for Olive's tuition."

Beckett coughed. "I can't believe you're still going on about a baby named Olive. Not happening, babe."

"So I haven't sold you on the name yet but speaking of babies, I was thinking, now that you won't be working twelve-hour days anymore maybe we can talk about starting a family?"

Beckett pushed herself away from him. Away from the suddenly serious and unexpectedly earnest expression on his face. Away from those hopeful blue eyes and the scent of his expensive aftershave that lingered in her nostrils anyway. "I, uh..."

She did want a family with him. Had even daydreamed of it during their recent lazy weekends, when Castle kept doing all sorts of things that he didn't think she noticed; to make sure she was back on track, healthy and rested after Rikers and everything else they'd been through. The kind of selfless, generous, thoughtful things that reminded her how lucky she was. How lucky any kid of theirs would be to call him Dad.

Plus, it wasn't as though she was young enough to put it off for another few years and then expect it to happen at will.

But _now_? No. She wasn't ready.

She still had nightmares and still wasn't convinced LokSat was really over.

And if she was being honest, Kate wasn't ready to be a stay-at-home mom supported by her millionaire husband either. Doubted she ever would be.

"Castle, I-"

He saw right through her obvious panic. As usual.

"I don't mean _now_ now. I mean, when you've got another job. When we're both in a good place. In every sense of the word."

Kate nodded with a forced smile. He always found the right words. Of course he did. But just as he saw through her, she could see through him too. He did mean _now_ now.

She sighed and admired his tailored suit. He'd been so casual lately, often still in his pyjamas by the time she left for work but this morning he was all sorts of suave and handsome. It was hard to keep her hands off him.

What was it about him a suit that made her want to take it off? Made no sense.

He planted a kiss on her. "When you're ready. And if you're not ever, that's okay too. I'm plenty happy with this. With us."

His words sent a flush of warmth into her cheeks. Almost made her forget why she'd snuck in here to begin with. Funny, that he was accusing her of being distracting.

"Speaking of jobs," Beckett started. "I got a call from Eric Vaughn yesterday."

"Eric Vaughn?" Castle's head snapped around. "As in billionaire-genius-tried-to-steal-my-girlfriend Eric Vaughn?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

He was a different kind of serious now. "What did he want? Congratulate you on resigning? Did you hang up on him."

"He wanted to tell me he was in New York. He heard about me resigning and wanted to meet up tonight to discuss a job opportunity."

"And you said no."

"I said, 'Sure, why not'."

A pout soured his face. "You're seriously going to have dinner with this guy? That same arrogant son of a bitch who strolled into the 12th during a murder investigation, demanded you be his personal bodyguard and then tried to steal you away from me, right under my own eyes?"

" _Steal me away_?" Beckett was half incredulous, half amused. He _was_ kind of adorable when he got jealous. "Like I had no say in the matter?"

"You know what I mean," he grumbled, failing to knot his tie for the second time in a row.

Beckett slinked around until she stood right in front of him. Chest to chest. Her hands reached for his tie and she tied it for him, with deliberate care until it was looped into a perfect half-Windsor knot. "There," she smoothed it with a slow stroke of her long fingers.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"You know he's married now, right?"

"Who?"

Beckett gave him a look.

"Vaughn?"

"Yes, Vaughn," she told him. "Not that it would make any difference to me. Or him."

"How do you know? You checking up on him?"

Beckett made a face. This was getting ridiculous. She tightened her grip on his tie, turning it into a noose. "I know because I got an invitation to the wedding."

"You did?"

"We both did. It took place eight months ago. In London. Same weekend we spent in the Hamptons. It wasn't long after Nieman kidnapped me. I needed the time alone with you and I figured you'd prefer it over a quick trip to the UK. So I never mentioned it. Now I see that I made the right decision."

"I can't believe he invited you to his wedding."

"Babe." She yanked at the tie and pulled him close enough that his nose touched hers because she was wearing heels and on equal footing. "If you don't stop this nonsense jealousy-"

Her husband was still pouting and it was adorable and annoying all at once. "This guy, he's a genius, Kate. A _billionaire_ genius. Not to mention easy on the eyes and not carrying around an extra twenty pounds the way I am. The guy's perfect!"

"What? So now _you_ have a crush on him?"

"You really are going to see him, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she shot back. "I am. Because the guy owns about a hundred companies and in a week or so I'm gonna need to start job hunting and also..."

"There's more?"

"Because," she hissed. "Even if he wasn't married, _which he is_ , Vaughn is absolutely no threat to us. Never has been. Never will be. I married you, I chose you, I'm crazy about you."

"Yeah? Crazy?"

"Clearly I must be."

Those smiling blue eyes sent a familiar warmth coursing through her veins. It was impossible to stay angry with him.

Beckett cupped his face in her hands and didn't resist when his lips met hers and claimed her all over again.

"Love you," he whispered into her ear.

"Uh huh," she groaned. If he loved her he wouldn't have kissed her like that. Wouldn't have made her all hot and bothered minutes before they had to leave for work, with no time for even a quick, although maybe- Beckett had to bite her lower lip to fight back the powerful urge. She'd wanted him so badly lately. Her body ravenously hungry for him with an urgency that wasn't like her.

She'd always been so good at controlling her wants and needs.

 _Guess that's what happens when you go on rogue missions and then get jailed and have sex once in three months. Apparently absence really does make the heart grow, and other body parts, grow fonder._

"What are you thinking?"

Beckett exhaled and pushed away the thought of unbuckling his pants. "I'm thinking that I could love you too if you weren't such an idiot sometimes."

"Is that right? You could?"

His fingers had inched along the back of her neck and were making their way through her hair now and, _oh god_ , her fingers suddenly had a mind of her own and before Kate knew it his immaculately ironed shirt was no longer tucked into his pants.

"Jesus Christ, Beckett...we don't have time..."

"Make-" The belt was undone too now and so was the zipper on her dress pants and _that_ hadn't been her doing at all. " _Make time."_

It was a plea and an order all at once, and it was the last thing she said before he pressed against her the bathroom wall. Before the sounds coming from her no longer resembled intelligible words.

* * *

 _Washington, DC_

"It's not coming from her computer but the IP address is from a computer at the 12th precinct," the twenty-year old announced after taking a bite of soggy hamburger.

The judge paced in the damp basement apartment. It reeked of fast food grease and unwashed socks.

"That's all you have after four days? A computer from the 12th? You can't tell me who it belongs to?"

The tech nerd with the pale, pasty skin (The judge briefly wondered if that translucent skin ever left this dungeon of an apartment full of computers and video game consoles; whether it ever saw sunlight) looked at him without emotion. "Breaking into a police server isn't like hacking into a house in the 'burbs. This isn't TV."

The judge ignored the sarcasm and thought about it for a moment. It didn't really matter whose computer it was. Fact was that Smith had led them to believe that the threat to her family would be enough to finally make Beckett stop meddling in their affairs and for a while it looked like the old man was right. Latest he heard was that she'd resigned.

But then the kid here had spotted someone poking around the Supreme Court servers. Making calls and searching for links via One Police Plaza.

Either Beckett didn't have enough clout to stall the investigation or the bitch truly thought they were stupid. That she could cease investigating herself but have one of her minions do it for her and think they wouldn't make the connection. It was probably one of those two detectives who kept going to visit her at Rikers.

The judge made his way out of the apartment without another word.

"You're welcome, _jackass_ ," the kid yelled from the room he'd just left.

Part of him wanted to turn back and teach the kid lesson. _Who the hell did he think he was dealing with?_

But the thought of spending another second in this disgusting space deterred the judge.

Besides, the one who really needed a lesson was Kate Beckett.

She desperately needed a reminder that she wasn't going to win this game by playing them for fools.

It was time to make good on their threats.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter XXI**

 _Castle residence, NYC_

Beckett could feel his eyes on her from the doorway, and it took all her willpower and concentration to pay no attention and focus on the mirror in front of her, so that the mascara she was applying wouldn't be a streaky mess.

"So how was work?" Castle casually leaned against the doorway, crossing one leg over the other.

She ignored him until she finished doing her eyes, followed by a smooth stroke of dark red over her lips. It wasn't perfect but it wasn't a mess either.

Beckett finally turned to him. "Seriously, Castle? 'How was work?'"

"I can't ask my wife how her day went?" He narrowed his brows, sounding so innocent that it made her want to squish his cheeks. Her big, strong man could be such a boy sometimes.

"Not when I know you're dying to ask me how my meeting with Vaughn went."

"Okay, fine," Castle stepped into bathroom and blocked her view of the mirror. "Tell me."

She gave him a push. "Out."

"What?" He looked at her in disbelief. "You're _not_ going to tell me?"

"I will but first I have to pee."

"Nothing I haven't seen before-"

"Castle!" She glared at him. "Don't make me kick you out of this bathroom."

She gave him another push and closed the door behind her.

Beckett couldn't believe he was still loitering by the doorway when she stepped out into the hallway after she was done.

"I'm not letting you leave for your dinner with Lanie until you tell me," he said, stepping into her space and possessively wrapping an arm around her waist.

Beckett didn't resist. Her body melted into him and she wished she could let him take her to bed instead of having to meet Lanie for dinner. It wasn't that she didn't want to see her best friend but she was tired and the combination of bed and Castle were infinitely more appealing.

"He offered me a job," Beckett told him as they ambled down the hallway.

Castle stopped dead in his tracks. "And you turned it down."

The narrowed brows now backed by a pout weren't so adorable anymore and Beckett had a hard time hiding her annoyance. "I'm not gonna have this conversation with you if you're incapable of even asking me what this job is about. If you insist on marking your territory every time Eric Vaughn's name comes up."

His expression softened and she caught the remorse in his eyes. "I'm sorry-" He curled his fingers around her wrist and led her to the dining room table. "Come on, sit down. Tell me about it."

Beckett observed him, wanting to make sure he wasn't merely placating her. That he really did want to know. Because, truth was, she desperately wanted him to love the idea as much as she did.

For the first time since handing in her resignation, Beckett felt as though she might still be able to make a difference. In ways she'd never imagined.

"He wants to create a non-profit security company." Beckett told him. "A global organization of trained bodyguards to protect those that can't protect themselves."

"Such as?"

"Grassroots environmentalists fighting against multi-billion dollar corporations in Central and South America, journalists that dare to write anti-government exposes in Turkey, teachers that risk their lives trying to educate girls in areas controlled by the Taliban, doctors travelling into war zones in South Sudan to treat the sick, the list goes on."

"I bet," Castle said softly.

"These people, they're the ones still fighting a battle that I've already lost. They've got all the odds stacked against them, battling those with more power and money than anyone should have. Vaughn wants to give them a fighting chance to keep doing what they're doing. To maybe inspire a whole new generation and create a world that's a little more equal."

"Why's he doing this?" Castle questioned. "Is he aiming for sainthood?"

"His wife is Russian," Beckett explained. "Her sister was a political journalist who was shot dead in her Moscow apartment last year. Supposedly it was robbery gone wrong. Except nothing was stolen and it happened a week after she published a scathing article on the current regime."

"Oh no."

"They're expecting a child too, Vaughn and his wife," Beckett added. "He told me he doesn't want to bring her into a world where someone who doesn't have money and power and dares to take a stand doesn't have a chance."

"Wow. Guy makes it really hard to hate him, doesn't he?"

"Vaughn knows he's part of the one percent and he wants to use it to do something good. To leave behind a legacy that's bigger than him."

"A modern day superhero."

A smile raised her lips. "Not so much, but it is an amazing project, babe. Something that could really make a difference."

"Something that could give you the chance to win a few more battles?"

She bit her lips. He knew her so well. "That too."

"But how, Kate?" His hands cupped his chin and his elbows were on the table. Defensive, skeptical, and concerned all at once. "I have this vision in my head of you guarding a shack in Central America, with an AK-47 and a bullet proof vest."

Beckett bit back a chuckle. "Sounds more like Nikki Heat than me."

"I'm serious-"

Truth was she'd asked Vaughn the same thing earlier tonight, over a milky cup of coffee.

 _"I'm flattered that you're asking me to do this but protective services isn't my speciality. God knows I screwed up when you asked me to be your personal bodyguard. A professional would've closed the drapes in that penthouse suite the minute we walked into it. I didn't even think about it. You'll want someone who's former Secret Service for this."_

 _"I can enroll anyone into a intensive protective services class, Kate. Finding someone who gives a damn is a lot harder."_ He'd then given her one of those mega watt smiles that Castle hated so much. _"I don't expect you to be a personal bodyguard. To operate in foreign countries we'll need to hire locals we can trust and then pay them enough that they can't be bought. I think you're the perfect person to head this organization. You have great instincts and you're a master interrogator. I trust you to be able to hand pick those people and liaise with them. It'll involve travel and wrangling with foreign bureaucracies and sometimes you'll be going up against walls, but it won't involve you being anyone's bodyguard."_

Beckett explained it to Castle as Vaughn had done to her and was pleased to see him stop knitting his brows together with worry.

"It's an amazing project," she added. "It's not only protecting some of the bravest, most vulnerable activists in the world. Vaughn wants to consider legal support in some cases too, to try and prevent these people from ending up in jail."

So much of it reminded her of the things that her mother had fought for.

"You want to do this, don't you?"

"I do," she admitted, hoping he couldn't see just how badly she wanted it.

"You should do it then," Castle told her, without hesitation. "I think Vaughn made a great pick. For someone who's only spent a couple of days with you, he does know you rather well."

"But can you really handle me doing this, Castle? Can I do this without having to worry about you being jealous even though Vaughn works out of London and most of our meetings will be Skype calls?"

"Jealous?" He gave her a look of mock disbelief. "Me? Your ruggedly handsome husband?"

Kate got up and joined him on his side of the table. Slid onto his lap and draped an arm over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll convince you to join me before the year is over. I do miss working with you."

His hand cupped her knee. "I'll have you know that I drive a hard bargain."

"Oh I know," she whispered into his ear. "I know all about you and riding, I mean- driving hard."

* * *

 _Lanie's apartment, NYC_

"Hey girl," Lanie crushed her into a hug as soon as Beckett stepped inside her friend's apartment, still chilled from the late November air she'd just left behind outside. "Figured you'd be early. Typical."

Beckett grinned. "Want me to come back in thirty minutes?"

"Hell no," Lanie pulled her into the living room. "With our luck you'll get called in because of a homicide and we'll have to postpone for another three weeks."

Beckett slipped out of her heels and followed Lanie to the living room, a twinge of guilt settling in her gut. She'd been a lousy friend lately. They'd cancelled three planned dinners already because she'd been so wrapped up in her LokSat crusade.

"I couldn't get us in before nine thirty," Lanie told her. "So we're gonna need to chill here for a while. But I'm not ready anyway, 'cause I wasn't expecting you for another half hour."

Beckett sat down on the couch and saw a fruit and cheese plate on the coffee table next to an open bottle of red wine and two long-stemmed glasses. Lanie poured some wine into each of them and raised her glass into a toast. "To you finally getting your ass over here and us finally trying out Amada. You have no idea how excited I am. I'm gonna be a tourist and take pictures of every course."

Kate clinked her glass with Lanie's and swallowed a generous sip. "Don't forget to Instagram them."

"Give me ten minutes to finish my nails and then I'll join you. I have about a million questions about this crazy case you've been so secretive about and you're gonna have to give me the real story about why you decided to resign," Lanie told her. "In the meantime, have some fruit and cheese. Figure that'll tide us over 'til dinner."

"Sounds good," Beckett made herself comfortable and slid one of her legs underneath the other on the sofa. It was purple and soft and decorated with a half dozen colourful pillows. It was so very Lanie.

She reached for two pieces of Swiss cheese and a slice of apple, stifling a yawn once Lanie was out of view. She had no idea how she was going to last for a dinner starting at nine thirty. Part of her debated calling her husband to see if he wouldn't be able to move up the reservation. Between his own fame and his buddy Maurice, the concierge at the Waldorf Astoria, Castle always found a way of getting a table at the exact time he wanted. No matter how popular the restaurant.

Beckett pulled out her cell phone and already had her thumb on his number but then stopped herself, putting it back in her purse instead.

They'd be meaning to get together months now and here she was trying to rush through it because all she wanted was to sink into the soft sheets of her bedroom?

 _Don't be a jerk,_ she chided herself. _Lanie deserves better._

She reached over to the fruit and cheese plate and grabbed a handful of grapes. She was starving now that she thought about it. Two pieces of cheese and three grapes later, she picked up her glass and had some more wine too, until it suddenly reminded her of the headache that had crept up on her all afternoon. When she met with Vaughn it had only been a mild annoyance but now it had morphed into something fiercer and the wine only made it worse.

Beckett closed her eyes and pressed two fingers into that tender spot above the bridge of her nose. Annoyed. She'd been so certain she was the tail end of these headaches. She'd made peace with her decision to quit (or so she thought) and her concussion had to have healed by now.

 _I'm blaming this one on you, Espo,_ she thought angrily thinking back to their latest blow-up this afternoon. The case he wouldn't back down from in spite of her insistence.

 _"That an order, Captain?" he'd provoked._

 _"Does it need to be?"_

 _"Yeah, yeah it does."_

 _"Espo...just drop it, okay?"_

Sad thing was that she could see herself behaving in exactly the same obnoxious way. She wouldn't have backed down either, and for good reason.

 _And I should've made it an order,_ she thought guiltily. Maybe she didn't because she wanted to believe he respected her enough as a friend that it didn't need to be. Or maybe deep down she wanted him to keep investigating...

"No," Beckett said aloud as a chill ran down her spine. She didn't.

Tomorrow. She'd make it official tomorrow and if she saw him still pursuing it she'd suspend his ass if need be. Because there was too much at stake here.

Beckett grabbed her purse and pulled out the bottle of Tylenol that she'd long since confiscated from Castle's mother and nearly depleted. She poured two pills into her palm and swallowed them with another sip of wine, too lazy to get up and grab a glass of water.

The throbbing between her temples intensified, but she'd be damned if she'd let that ruin their evening.

The pills would kick in soon and tame her headache back into a mild annoyance. Until then she'd lay off the wine and eat some more cheese and crackers.

Ten minutes turned into thirty and when Lanie finally came back into the living room she looked stunning, wearing a low-cut, skin-fitting blue dress that hugged all the right curves.

"Holy cow, Lanie," Beckett's jaw dropped. "I didn't realize this was a date," she joked suddenly feeling completely under-dressed in her jeans and black turtle neck.

"You wanna know the truth?" Lanie asked her, oddly shy in an outfit that suggested anything but timidity. "There's a chef there that I met at this charity golf game last week. He's so hot, Kate and I know he's working tonight."

Beckett chuckled. "Ah- so it _is_ a date. Just not between the two of us."

"Girl," Lanie sat down next to her with an indignant wave of her hand and grabbed her wine glass. "That is not what I meant."

"You know, now that you mentioned it, I'm going to make sure he comes out to see us. I'll complain about the food if that's what it takes-"

Lanie looked mortified. "Don't you joke about that."

Beckett popped another piece of cheese into her mouth. She'd made quite the dent in the plate in front of her. Soon enough she'd have no more room for their fancy Andalusian dinner. "So what's his name?"

"Why? So you can run a background check on him?"

Kate giggled. She'd missed this. "Of course." Then she slapped her friend's arm. "No, because I'm your friend and I'm curious."

"Nah uh, " Lanie waved an index finger at her. "Nice try, turning this thing into my interrogation when I'd been planning on grilling you all week."

"Is that right?"

"You're not having any wine," Lanie noticed. "Is it not vintage enough for you, Mrs. Castle?"

"Nah- " Beckett picked up the glass and ran her index finger along the rim before taking a sip. "It's great I just- had a bit of a headache and it wasn't helping."

Lanie's gorgeous face eyed her. "You had a headache last time I saw you in the morgue too. Maybe Castle's right. Couldn't hurt to see a neurologist to make sure everything's okay."

"Wait a minute," Beckett leaned forward. "What do you mean Castle's right? Is he discussing my health with you?"

"He asked me whether your symptoms are normal this many weeks after a concussion."

"Symptoms?"

"He told me that you're still having headaches and that you've been more tired than usual lately. Things that he doesn't have to tell me because I've noticed them myself."

Beckett tightened her lips. Irritated. She'd never fully understand or accept how comfortable Castle was with living his life on page six and telling the world about his personal life.

"Oh get over it," Lanie scolded her. "The guy's crazy about you. He worries about you. Rest of us would swoon to have someone so madly in love with us."

Beckett exhaled. Tried to take it in stride. "So, uh, what'd you tell him?"

"That some patients stop getting headaches a few days after a concussion for others it takes weeks. Even a couple of months. Especially in your case, where you didn't exactly take it easy after it happened. In fact, you probably did none of the things you should've done to speed up the healing. Sometimes concussion symptoms can take up to three months to go away. You're approaching that mark. If they don't go away in a couple of weeks, go see a doctor." Her friend sounded like an impatient schoolteacher trying to drill this into her thick skull. "I'm telling _you_ that. Not Castle."

"Okay," Beckett agreed. Lanie was right. They were both watching out for her and maybe it's time she started being grateful instead of offended.

Lanie poured herself some more wine. "Do you ever think it could be something else?"

"Something else?"

"There are other things that cause headaches and fatigue." Amusement played on Lanie's face. "Especially in the first trimester."

Beckett almost spit out a whole grape. "I'm not pregnant, Lanie."

"There's no chance you could be?"

The question took her aback. _Was there?_ "No- I'm on the pill. Have been for some time."

"So during all this craziness- during the time you left Castle, followed by that over dose and your time at Rikers, you kept taking it regularly?"

"I-uh," Beckett stared at her in disbelief. Where the hell was this going? This was worse than having to try and explain her resignation. "No, of course not. But I also wasn't having sex!"

"Not even once?"

"No."

"Kate?" Lanie waved a hand in front of her face. "You okay?"

"Okay once," she whispered. "Just once." Her thoughts drifted back to it now. What was it, a day or two after she'd nearly overdosed? So much of it was a blur to her now. She'd felt so sick in the two days after leaving the hospital. Had thought it was all a mistake; going back to the loft. Castle had been so angry and had barely spoken to her that day, until she'd brought him a coffee into the study and his fingers suddenly grasped her wrist and pulled her onto his lap.

They did make love that night. Of course she remembered that, because it had been wonderful.

Neither of them thought about protection because they'd been so used to her taking care of it. But at the time her birth control pills had still been at Vikram's place. She hadn't taken them for days.

Beckett swallowed, her mouth dry as sand paper.

"Hey-"

She felt Lanie's hand on her thigh. "I'm not-"

"Okay, so you had unprotected sex once," Lanie set down her wine glass. "It doesn't mean you're pregnant. I was messing with you, girl. You _haven't_ been late, have you?"

"Late?"

Lanie cocked her head in disbelief. "For your period!"

Beckett stared at her friend. "I-" It was suddenly hard to breathe. "I honestly can't remember."

"You can't remember? You're kidding me."

"Look- I was at Rikers for over _five weeks_ and every day the only thing I thought about was 'how do I make through the next twenty-hours without getting beaten up?' while my lawyer kept reminding me that I probably had a death sentence hanging over my head too. So, no, I wasn't sitting in my cell thinking 'why the hell haven't I had my period?''

Beckett didn't want to think about Rikers at all. A place where tampons and maxi pads were as hard to come by as the other two highly coveted items: cigarettes and over-the-counter painkillers. Frankly, she was glad that was one thing she didn't have to endure there.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Beckett insisted when she saw the regretful look on Lanie's face. "I know it sounds crazy. To not know."

"No," Lanie shook her head and squeezed her arm. "It's not. But Kate, what about since then? You've been out of Rikers for what? Three weeks? A month?"

"I went back on the pill so I knew it would be irregular until the first cycle. I didn't question it and when I was younger it wasn't that unusual for me to miss a cycle. Especially when I was stressed about something."

"Okay then," Lanie pushed herself off the sofa and walked towards the coat rack. "So you're probably not pregnant."

"No, I'm not." Beckett's eyes followed her, confused. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the drug store across the street and we're going to make sure."

"Are you crazy?"

Lanie waved her off and then grabbed a scarf and a set of keys from a ring attached to the wall. "Personally I think you're crazy for not having taken a pregnancy test yet and heaven knows we won't be able to enjoy our dinner until we know for sure."

"You mean _you_ won't be able to enjoy dinner."

"Oh, who are you kidding," Lanie shot back, halfway out the door already. "It's all your gonna think about now that I put the idea in your head."

Beckett stared wordlessly across the living room and watched her friend lock the door behind her. This was supposed to have been a fun girls night out and now her heart hammered frantically in her chest making it feel like it could explode any moment.

"I'm not pregnant," she whispered aloud. As if saying it would make it true.

The thought shot goose bumps up along her arms. If by some highly improbable chance she really was pregnant, then she'd already done everything wrong. It would mean she spent the first five weeks of her pregnancy at Rikers getting her ass kicked every day while being fed an awful diet of processed food. After she got out she happily indulged in her coffee addiction again, never mind the occasional glass of wine with dinner. It was only because she'd been so tired lately that she rarely had more than a single glass. Because one was all it took to make her fall asleep.

Was that the baby telling her to quit?

The thought of how phenomenally badly she might have screwed all this up made her eyes well up with tears. If ever anyone needed verification that she wasn't mother material, surely this was it. Proof positive that she wasn't cut out for this.

Who the hell had unprotected sex and then missed two cycles and didn't think anything of it? Irresponsible teens were smarter than this.

Beckett wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Is this why she cried at the drop of a hat lately? _Hormones_?

"Stop it," she mouthed. "There is no baby."

She'd take the damn test, prove Lanie wrong and then she'd finish that half full glass of wine that was sitting on the coffee table and pour herself another one, because frankly, headache or not, she could really use it right about now.

Maybe she'd lost track of time, but it seemed like Lanie had barely left the apartment a moment ago when Beckett already heard the door opening again. Her friend was back, shivering in her gorgeous dress and wool coat, and holding a plastic Walgreens bag in one hand.

Lanie handed her the contents of the bag. "Go on. Let's get this over with so we can finish the rest of that wine."

"I can't believe you're really making me-"

"You know you want to." Lanie grabbed her hand and yanked her up from the couch and gave her a push towards the bathroom.

Once inside, Beckett opened the package and followed the instructions. Peed on the stick, sat down on the rim of the bathtub and waited. One line meant it was negative. Two lines...not negative.

Beckett exhaled a sigh of relief when a couple of minutes later, she saw a distinct red line appear on the small, white oval space. One line. Not two.

 _Damn you, Lanie,_ she thought. _Making me freak out over this for no reason._

She closed her eyes and could literally feel her heart rate slow down. Could feel the pounding in her head slowly subside.

 _I'm going to drink the rest of your wine now and not feel remotely guilty about it, my friend._

She straightened her arms and pushed herself back up onto her feet. Then Beckett stole a quick glance towards the pregnancy test lying by the sink.

It made her do a double take.

 _What the hell?_

Out of nowhere, a second line.

It was lighter and more pinkish in colour than red, but it was most definitely there, where only moments ago there'd been nothing.

Maybe she was imagining it. She was finally losing it after three months of constant stress.

A knock on the door matched the sudden thud of her heart.

"Girl, you okay in there? You've been awfully quiet."

"No."

Lanie knocked once more before she swung open the door and saw Beckett was holding on to the rim of the sink. The test lying next to her steely grip.

"Oh my God!" Lanie squealed before covering her mouth with her hands. "A baby! Beckett, you're really having a baby!" Lanie's arms enveloped her in a crushing hug. "I can't believe it."

Pure joy emanated from her Lanie's face and Beckett thought she saw her wipe away a tear.

"Hey-" Lanie stopped her celebration for a moment, taking in her lack of a reaction. "You okay?"

"I need-" Beckett barely got the words out. Sit down. She needed to sit down because all of sudden she felt so light-headed she thought she might pass out. Like pregnant women sometimes did on television.

"Girl, you're pale as a ghost." Lanie made she sure she sat down on the toilet seat cover.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Beckett told her before putting her elbows on her knees and lowering her head into her hands.

Lanie kneeled down in front of her. " _Have_ you been sick lately? You know, nauseous and puking?"

Beckett raised her head back up and stared at her. "No. Not at all." She was hungry, yes. All the time. But nauseous? No, not even a little. "Shouldn't I be? Don't they say morning sickness is a sign of a healthy pregnancy?" Tears filled her eyes again. What if she'd already screwed this up beyond repair?

"No, it's not." Lanie made a face. "That's an old wives tale. Almost half of all pregnant women don't get morning sickness." She handed her some toilet paper. "This is supposed to be happy news, honey, why are you crying?"

"Because if this test is right, if I'm really pregnant I've already fucked this up royally. I've had coffee, alcohol, I'm taking birth control pills, headache pills, I've spent the first month in prison getting beat up-" The tears were unstoppable now, ruining the minimal make-up she'd put on earlier. "What kind of damage-"

"Woah, wait a minute, hang on there," Lanie grabbed both her arms. "Look at me. How much alcohol are we talking here? A glass of wine with dinner or are you knocking back shots at the Old Haunt?"

"No," Beckett met Lanie's calm face. _How could she be so calm?_ "Of course not."

"Glass of wine with dinner?"

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"Not great but probably harmless."

"What about all the coffee?"

"Pretty much every study on the subject's concluded that two cups a day is perfectly safe and more than that is most likely okay too."

"The pill?"

"The pill is meant to stop you from conceiving. It doesn't do much after the fact."

"Tylenol?"

"Completely harmless."

"And what about the-" Beckett started to find her voice again. "The fights I got into at Rikers?"

"I'm gonna be brutally honest here with you," Lanie squeezed her arm. "If anything was bad enough to harm the foetus, you'd have miscarried right then. You wouldn't be pregnant right now."

Beckett took a deep breath.

"Listen to me, Kate," Lanie's voice was a port in a storm that kept bringing her back from the ledge. "Not gonna lie and say this is an ideal first trimester but women have been popping healthy kids into this world for centuries in way worse conditions. You'd be surprised at how resilient these little unborn critters are. The human race wouldn't be multiplying at the rate it is, if they weren't. You don't smoke or do drugs or engage in any other high-risk behaviour. Chances are really, _really_ good that this baby is perfectly fine and healthy."

"You're not just saying that to make me stop panicking?"

"Girl," Lanie gave her an offended look. "Did you forget there's an MD after my name?"

Beckett blew her nose again and mustered a smile. "Sorry."

"Go see an OB/GYN. Lay off the alcohol, stop taking the birth control pills and don't go cold turkey, but limit yourself to one or two coffees a day. Take some supplements and I bet that'll help with the headaches and the fatigue. That's the only advice I've got for you. Pretty sure those are the only minor lifestyle changes you have to make."

Beckett exhaled. Maybe Lanie was right. Maybe she hadn't messed it up as badly as she thought.

"But tell me something," Lanie brought her back to the present again. "What about you, are you happy about this?"

"I, uh-" Only last night she thought she was so far from being ready that it might never happen. The timing was lousy and it was so completely unexpected it had floored her. Literally. But after she put all that aside and gave herself a moment to think about the fact the she'd created a life with Rick, with this amazing, beautiful man she loved more than she ever imagined loving anyone; it threatened to burst her heart. In the best possible way. "Yeah. I am."

Relief was all over Lanie's face and she gave her another hug. "I was starting to think that wasn't the case."

"It's just-unexpected," she confessed.

"And Castle? Think he'll be excited?"

Castle would be over the moon. Kate had no doubts whatsoever. The thought of telling him flooded her with warmth. Made her want to drop everything and call him right now.

"Guess that means dinner's off tonight," Lanie sighed.

Beckett shook her head. "No, no, it's not."

"Don't you wanna rush home and tell your husband?"

"Yes...and no. Honestly, I think I need a couple of hours to digest this. So I can tell him without freaking out," Beckett grinned. She really was going to burst with joy. "Besides, I'm starving."

"Of course you are. Oh, Kate," Lanie pulled her into another hug and held on tight. "Forcing you to take that test better get me godmother status. That is all I have to say."

Beckett returned her hug, wanting to pinch herself. "Deal."

* * *

 _Amada restaurant, NYC_

 _Later_

For a place that was so hard to get into, it surprised Beckett that the restaurant Lanie had chosen was laid back and casual. Busy and full of young professionals but completely unpretentious. It also surprised her that the chef she'd been gushing over was short and Asian and wore glasses with thick, black frames.

"What?" Lanie gave her a look after the man left their table. "You don't think he's handsome, right?"

Beckett rolled her eyes. "No. He just- doesn't seem like your type, that's all."

Lanie stuffed a piece of ceviche into her mouth and emitted a mildly orgasmic sound. "You do realize that same man made this, right? He's a culinary God, Beckett."

"All right then," Beckett was about to dip into her own ceviche when Lanie swooped in to grab the plate from her.

"No raw fish for you."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. How do you not know this?"

"Look, I never really cared to know what pregnant women can and can't eat because I wasn't sure I'd ever be one." The thought that she was still threatened to take her breath away. "Besides, I thought you said everything on the chef's tasting menu was okay."

"That's because I didn't know what half of it was. The menu's in Spanish!"

"Great." Her friend had already confiscated half the meat on their tapas plates _("Cured hams, are you crazy? Hand it over.")_ and Beckett wasn't entirely convinced that the sole reason was because she wasn't supposed to be eating it.

Lanie handed her some more rice in exchange. "Here. You can have my arroz con pollo."

"Funny how you do understand certain words in Spanish."

"Javi taught me the important ones."

Beckett reached for some black and green olives on a colourful ceramic plate. Olives was just one of the many thing she'd been craving since getting out of Rikers. She'd added liberal amounts to every pizza slice she'd eaten in the last few weeks.

Olives. Of all things.

Beckett bit back a smile. Castle would have a field day if he knew. That she'd been craving olives while carrying a tiny human inside her that was probably not much bigger than...an olive.

 _Still not naming her Olive. Not happening, babe. In fact, I just won't tell you. About my craving for olives, that is. Not about the little olive inside me. That I cannot wait to tell you about. It's taking every ounce of willpower not to pick up the phone and call you this very second and then shout it out to the universe. I want to tell Dad too. He's going to be so happy. And Alexis. She's going to be an amazing big sister._

"Girl, what are you grinning about?"

"Nothing."

"Uh huh."

When they finished the latest course, Lanie excused herself to go to the washroom, giving Beckett a chance to pull her cell phone from her purse. It was rare that she put it away for as long as she did tonight because as Captain, and she still was for another two days, she was never really off duty.

There were no calls from the Twelfth but there were four missed calls from Castle.

"What the hell?" Panic flared up in the pit of her stomach.

Beckett dialled his number.

" _I've been trying to reach you! Why haven't you picked up?"_ Castle's voice was shaky when he answered her on the other end. It amplified her panic.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

 _"I'm at Beth Israel. It's Mother, she's been attacked."_

* * *

 **A/N** : Sorry for the mini-hiatus last week! I needed a week to get caught up on this story. Thanks for your patience. :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter XXII**

 _Mount Sinai Beth Israel Hospital, NYC_

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, Kate Beckett raced up to the patient floors, with Lanie two steps behind her, as soon as the admitting nurse had told them where Martha Rodgers was.

She was in a normal room on a normal floor, not in the ICU, and Beckett tried to tell herself that this at least, was a sliver of good news.

When she spotted the room number they gave her, on a small grey plaque next to a beige door, she pushed the door open only to find a single bed inside, a private room of course, with Castle on one side of the bed and Alexis on the other. Martha was either asleep or unconscious, Beckett couldn't quite tell, but what she did see took her breath away.

Martha's face was almost entirely covered in some sort of dressing, only one cheek and a single closed eyelid peeked through it all. One of her arms was wrapped up at the wrist and Kate wondered where else she was injured, if she could see all _that_ on the surface with a single glance.

The vibrant woman that she'd come to know as a force to be reckoned with was small and fragile now and it broke Kate's heart. Made her want to kill the coward who did it with her own two hands.

She walked over to her husband stunned and in a daze. "What happened?"

Castle, her endless optimist, was as weary and defeated as she'd ever seen him. For the first time since she'd known him, he looked old. And that broke her heart too.

Beckett moved close enough to wrap her arms around him, but Castle's hands grabbed her forearms before she had the chance. Held them tight and pushed her back. Beckett noticed it then, how angry he was beneath the weariness.

"We need to talk," he mumbled under his breath, turning towards Lanie who was standing in the doorway while Beckett noticed that Alexis was staring at them both. "Alone."

Castle led her out of Martha's room to the very end of the hospital hallway where he pushed on a door that opened up into a stairwell and beckoned for her to follow onto the landing before he closed the door behind them.

Beckett didn't understand. All she wanted was to take him into her arms and offer him some sort of comfort but he wasn't letting her get close enough. "Babe, what's going on?"

"Mother was attacked," he told her. "I gave a beat cop a statement."

"I know. I contacted him on the way here."

"He said the attacker might've been mentally ill. Because attacking my mother and beating her up without even trying to make off with her wallet made no sense."

Beckett didn't say anything.

"You don't think that's what this was, do you? A random attack from someone who's mentally ill."

Beckett met his unrelenting gaze. No. She didn't. "Look, we don't know anything at this-"

"Bullshit, Kate," he cut her off. "We both know who was behind this, don't we?"

Beckett bit her lip. "How is she, Rick? Tell me."

"How do you think she is?" He made no effort to hide his anger once he finally moved close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin. "Tell me the truth, did you stop investigating?"

"What?"

"Did you really stop investigating Loksat, or did you only tell me you did?"

Kate eyed him incredulously. "I resigned," she barely got the words out. "Of course I stopped."

"So you stopped," he told her. "But did you have someone else do it on your behalf? Thinking you could get away with it?"

" _What_?"

And suddenly it dawned on her as she made the connection.

 _Oh God, Espo. What have you done?_

"Kate." Angry azure eyes bored into hers. "Tell me the truth. Did you really do everything you could to stop this investigation?"

"I-uh-" Now the words were truly stuck in her throat. No. She hadn't. She'd asked Esposito to stop but didn't order him to. When she had to have known damn well that's what it would take for him to stop.

Maybe Castle was right. Maybe deep down she wanted Esposito to find something. Maybe-

 _No, I didn't._

"You didn't stop, did you?" His revelation was levelled at her with such disappointment because she'd betrayed his unshakeable belief in her.

"Of course I did," Beckett repeated. "Castle, I'd never-" She was crying now. Unwanted tears fuelled by hormones that she no longer had any control over. "I'd never do anything to hurt your mother. You know that."

"Except you did hurt her this time," he said softly. "And it's all because you can't ever back down, isn't it?"

"No. You're wrong."

"Then why else would they attack my family?"

His family. Not hers. Beckett didn't miss the implication behind his choice of words.

Rick moved even closer, their bodies almost touching and she so desperately wanted was to kiss away all his pain. It was the one thing she was good at when it came to the two of them. Words were his strength, touch was hers.

"Did you know someone else was investigating this thing?"

She wanted to say no. Maybe then he'd stop looking at her like that. Like she'd taken his heart into her hands, wrung it out and then shattered it all over the ground into a thousand pieces.

"I- Yes...Esposito wouldn't back down. I knew he was still looking into it." She couldn't do it. Couldn't lie to him. Not now.

"Esposito." Castle spat out Javi's name in disgust and stared blankly over her shoulder into the stairwell. "I wish I were surprised."

"He had no idea what was at stake, Rick. And I couldn't tell him. You know that."

Castle clenched his fist at his side. "You're still defending him. Even now. Of course you are."

Kate wiped away the tears that were blurring her vision. "I'm defending him because this is not his fault. We knew from the start that I wouldn't be able to shut this whole thing down single-handedly and Espo did what any honourable cop would have done. What I would have done if I didn't know any better. He tried to find the men who killed one of our own."

"But you- you knew what he was doing, yet you didn't say anything? Didn't warn me?"

"I tried to get him to stop!"

"You _tried_? What do you mean you tried?" Castle shut his eyes tight and they were moist when he opened them. "I can't do this anymore, Kate. Can't keep trying to mean more to you than your crusades when I don't. I can't keep fooling myself."

"That is _not_ true and you know it, you idiot," she grabbed a hold of his shirt but he coiled his fingers around her wrist and forced her to loosen her grip and let go.

"If it's not true then my mother wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed barely conscious."

"Castle...I did _everything_ I could!"

"Did you?"

"Yeah, I did." A salty tear had made it's way onto her lips and Beckett wiped it away. "And you're wrong."

"I love you so much, Kate. I can forgive you almost anything," he said quietly, moving away from her and back towards the door. The anger was gone, replaced by resignation. "But I can't forgive you for hurting my family."

Her tears kept falling. Thick and heavy.

"Go home," he said with a sombre finality that hit her right in the chest. Made it feel tight and constricted. "I can't do this tonight. Please. Just go."

"Rick, I'm not leaving." She reached for him but he already took a step away from her.

"Of course you're not." He shook his head and turned around, leaving the stairwell and slamming the door behind him.

Kate's knees suddenly felt weak and she held on to the stairway railing for support. She needed a moment to steady herself before going back outside to face Lanie and making a second attempt to see Martha.

* * *

 _Later_

In spite of the two cups of coffee Lanie had consumed since coming to the hospital with her, her friend couldn't stop yawning.

"Lanie," Beckett chided her. "It's almost two a.m. Go home."

"Not unless you come with me."

They'd both parked themselves in uncomfortable chairs, in a waiting area for visitors about five doors down from the room where Martha was in. Lanie was half draped over an armrest and Beckett had curled her legs underneath her, her heels lying at the foot of the chair while her eyes stayed glued to Martha's room, waiting for Castle to come out.

"He probably had them move a bed into the room," Lanie reasoned. "It's his mother. He'll stay there all night. No point in you doing the same if he won't let you into the room."

He'd done more than ask her to stay away. Castle had gone so far as to request that Martha Rodgers receive no other visitors aside from Alexis or her son. A bulky nurse had enforced that request when Beckett had tried to bulldoze her way into the room an hour ago.

All she needed was to talk to him and make him realize that there was no way she wanted Esposito to continue this investigation. Yes, she'd been stupidly naive and careless to think he'd listen to her when she asked him to stop. Stupid not to threaten him under official orders. But she didn't want this. She _needed_ Castle to know that, no matter how angry he was with her right now. Because deep down she didn't think he really believed it anyway. He was desperate to blame someone and she was the most obvious target.

"I need to be here," she explained. "But you don't, Lane. Go home. You have to work tomorrow."

"Don't you?"

"It's my second last day," Beckett argued. "After that I can sleep all week."

Lanie stretched and slowly got up. Too tired to put up more of an argument. "Wanna tell me what the hell's going on with you and Castle?" It's the second time she'd asked and Beckett still didn't have answer for her.

"It's - complicated."

"Oh, honey," Lanie bent down to give her a hug. "Promise me you're not gonna sit here all night?"

"Can't do that," Beckett told her, honestly.

"You can't think only about yourself anymore, you do know that, right?"

Beckett bit back a fresh round of tears. All of this was too much tonight. Learning she was pregnant. Martha getting attacked. Castle accusing her of causing it all and then pushing her away. "I know."

"You've got to try and look after yourself, Kate. At least promise me that."

"Will do." She returned Lanie's hug. "Castle-he's so hurt and angry right now but I know him. He's not someone who holds on to that kind of anger. He'll come out of that hospital room at some point and when he does he'll need me. I want to be here."

"If you say so," Lanie gave her a skeptical look. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Thanks. Sorry about dinner- I owe you another one now."

"Oh, please."

Beckett stifled a yawn of her own as she watched her friend head towards the elevators. She managed to stay awake another hour, most of which she spent with her eyes glued to Martha's room, waiting for signs of any comings and goings. Even Alexis still had to be in there.

The only people she saw entering and leaving the room were two nurses, one of whom shot her a look that let her know she didn't like being spied on.

Beckett tried hard to stay awake longer, but it was yet another battle she lost when suddenly she hit a wall and couldn't stop her head from dropping onto the arm she'd draped over the back of the chair and drifting into oblivion against her will.

 _Later_

"Mrs. Castle?" A touch on her shoulders startled her awake and Kate jerked up from the seat she was in. A woman wearing lime-green scrubs was standing over her.

It took her a second to rub the sleep from her half-open eyes and get her bearings. The people sitting in chairs all around her, some of the staring at her. The stretchers in the hallway.

Martha. Hospital. The argument.

"Mrs. Castle-" The nurse started, awkwardly.

"Huh?"

Of course, she'd only told them she was Castle's wife. What else would they call her? "You've been asleep for while and we can't really allow-"

"I understand," Beckett told her, pushing herself up to stand next to the nurse on unsteady legs, realizing only then how sore her neck and shoulders were. Just how long had she been asleep? "Can you tell me anything about Mrs. Rodgers? How she is?"

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Castle requested that no information be given out on her condition to anyone."

Beckett clenched her lips. _I'm her daughter-in-law, not anyone._ She'd already heard this line from another nurse last night. Beckett's eyes drifted towards Martha's room down the hall. "Can you at least tell me if she's still there? If my husband's still in there?"

"I'm sorry-" Unlike the last one, this nurse really did look apologetic. "But I can't tell you that either."

"I see." Beckett swallowed and made a haphazard effort to straighten the wrinkled black turtleneck sweater she'd slept in. The room was cold and she was chilled after waking up. Could feel the goose bumps running up her arms. "Thank you," she managed.

Her coat was draped over the chair she'd slept on, and Beckett grabbed it and checked the time on her Omega watch as she slid her arms into the sleeves. 6:36am. Enough time to go home and shower before heading off to the precinct for her second last day of work. Maybe Castle had gone home to freshen up as well.

She tightened the belt around her coat and left the hospital, hoping that she'd find her husband at home.

After all, he couldn't avoid her forever.

* * *

 _12th Precinct, NYC_

Castle wasn't at the loft when she went there to shower and apply a generous amount of make-up in an effort to hide the rough night that was all too evident on her pale face. Now that she was at back at the precinct Beckett could admit that although she didn't quite succeed, she did look reasonably alive and awake.

With one hand cradling a cup of half-milk, half-coffee, she turned on the laptop in her office, hoping to go over some meeting minutes before the precinct would fully thrum to life in about half an hour. The volume of her e-mails had already tapered down in the last few days. Many of them now went to her successor instead because many of them required follow-up that she wouldn't be around for.

Her successor was a woman. A lieutenant from Harlem. Beckett would spend the afternoon with her, as well as the bulk of the day tomorrow, as she slowly handed over the reins.

Although Beckett never saw herself as a trailblazer, only thing she ever cared about was doing the best she could in the name of justice- it did make her happy to see this, that she was part of a new trend. That having a woman leading the precinct was no longer something unusual. Maybe Detective Fung would follow in all their footsteps sometime soon and no one would bat an eye.

She took a sip of her coffee and checked the meeting notes on her lap top. Although Lanie had reiterated that two cups a day was absolutely fine, Beckett was determined to cut it down to one. She'd already messed up on too many fronts and was done taking chances. One half cup now and another later in the afternoon, when she'd undoubtedly crash around the 3 p.m lull. One measly cup, only because going cold turkey was against Lanie's advice too and because it would increase the headache she'd woken up with at least ten-fold. Surely that wouldn't be good for the baby either. Even though Lanie assured her that Tylenol was also perfectly safe.

Then again, what the hell did she know about what was good for a baby? For a foetus the size of an olive.

Beckett bit her lip and placed a hand on her abdomen. A baby. Growing inside her. She exhaled, still blown away by the enormity of it all.

"Hey," Kevin Ryan's face poked into her office after a barely perceptible knock. "You okay, boss?"

Beckett's hand flew away from her stomach. "What? What do you mean?" Did she look green? She didn't feel sick. Not even a twinge of nausea. _Did she look pregnant?_ God knows she wasn't glowing. Far from it.

"I heard," he told her sombrely, stepping into her office.

"You _heard_?"

"Martha," Ryan told her. "I heard she was mugged on Delancey last night. Not far from your place."

"Yeah-" Beckett nodded. "How- how did you hear?"

"Apparently a crime reporter from the Post looked into it and got the name of the victim." Ryan stood across from her desk. "I couldn't believe it. Is she all right?"

Beckett stared at him. _Was_ she all right? It killed her not to know. "She, uh-yeah, she's okay. They kept her at Beth Israel overnight for observation."

"You know they're gonna do everything to find this guy, right?"

 _They won't,_ Beckett thought.

"How's Castle?"

"He's- taking it hard."

"I bet," Ryan replied. "Give them both my best, okay? And keep us posted. Doesn't matter if you're here anymore or not. You guys are always gonna be part of the 12th family."

Beckett nodded. "I will."

"Gonna guess you didn't get much sleep last night either."

"Not so much."

Ryan nodded in understanding. "If there's anything you need, you let us know, 'kay?"

"Okay."

Beckett watched him walk out of her office and stole another glance at the cell phone lying on her desk. Opened its screen with a press of her fingerprint. Still nothing.

What she really needed was for Castle to answer one of the half dozen texts she'd sent him this morning.

* * *

 _Later_

By the time 6 o'clock rolled around, it took such a monumental effort to keep her eyes open that Beckett caved. She had her third half cup of coffee and a single Tylenol pill to go with it. She felt guilty afterwards, even though it was still less than what Lanie assured her was perfectly safe.

But her head was pounding hard by then and she could barely muster the energy to put on her coat and flag a taxi outside the precinct. Beckett debated having a nap on the couch in her office before leaving but then decided against it because she was far too impatient to see how Martha was. Two calls to the hospital, one in which she finally decided to pull rank and demand an answer, hadn't told her much more other than the fact that she was still there. And that in itself worried her.

On top of it all, Castle still wasn't returning her calls or her texts. Although she did see that he'd read them at least. Clearly she'd been mistaken about his inability to stay angry for long.

It shouldn't have surprised her. He always became a different man when the people he loved were threatened. She'd seen it firsthand when Alexis was kidnapped. Had heard from the boys that he'd nearly beaten Tyson to a pulp when he'd kidnapped her.

 _Except you're forgetting that now. That I'm your family too. That I love them as much as you do._

"Ma'am?" the cab driver's voice woke her up when they got to the hospital because she'd dozed off in the car, her cheek squished heavily against the backseat.

Beckett pushed herself forward, blinked hard and saw the fare in the box next to the steering wheel with blurry eyes, before pulling out her wallet and handing the driver a twenty. "Keep the change."

"You have yourself a good day, ma'am."

It was only a few steps from the cab to the main entrance, but the icy cool air from the door of the cab to the entrance of the hospital made her teeth chatter because she was still half-asleep.

Beckett bypassed the admissions desk and took the elevator straight up to the floor where she knew Martha was. With a little luck the hyper-vigilant nurses might be too busy and not catch her entering the room. After all, it wasn't as though Castle had a guard stationed outside the door. If she could only talk to him face to face, Beckett was convinced that he'd understand. She knew him well enough to know that.

She made a mistake. A stupid, _stupid_ mistake, but there was no way she wanted this. This wasn't her playing with fire. Not this time.

He _had_ to believe that.

 _I need you to believe me because it's the truth. And because I so badly want to tell you that we're going to have a baby. I want to see your face when I tell you. For once in these godawful three months, I want to give you something that's good and wonderful. I want to make you happy but I need you to let me._

She reached Martha's room and this time there was no nurse and no doctor who stopped her and she closed her eyes in a second of gratitude. She wouldn't give him the chance to kick her out this time. She'd grab him and hold on until he-

Empty.

As soon as she opened the door, Beckett saw that the room was empty. There was a single, freshly-made bed in it and nothing else.

Beckett stormed back outside until she reached the nurse's station. "Excuse me, the patient in room 407, where is she?"

"Mrs. Rodgers?" The slender black nurse looked up at her. "She was discharged this afternoon. Maybe about three hours ago?"

"Discharged to where?"

"Into the care of her son, Mr. Castle." The nurse looked up at her. Beckett didn't remember seeing her before. "Excuse me, who are you?"

"So she went home?"

"I'm sorry, but that's not information that I'm able to give out."

God, she was so tired of this.

Beckett pulled out her badge. A badge that she'd already tarnished beyond repair. What was one more lie? "I'm Captain Beckett. Twelfth Precinct. I need to know where Mrs. Rodgers went. It's a police matter."

The young nurse suddenly seemed flustered. "I'm going to have to get my supervisor."

Kate cringed when she saw a nurse that she did recognize. One who'd been decidedly unreceptive to all her pleas last night.

"Mrs. Castle," the woman started and there was a gleefulness in her voice that made Beckett want to push the envelope.

"I've already explained to you that Mr. Castle has made it very clear that we're not to give this information to anyone."

 _Especially you,_ the nurse wanted to add, Beckett could tell. It took restraint for her not to say it. If Kate really wanted to, she could use her authority and force the nurse's hand. It would trump patient confidentiality in the event of a police investigation.

But she couldn't be bothered.

"Thanks," she replied icily. "For the reminder. Obviously I forgot."

Then she turned on her heels and made a beeline for the elevator. If Martha was well enough to be released, then Castle would have taken her home. He'd probably hire a private nurse to take care of her at the loft.

It made her wish she'd gone straight there after instead of coming here after work. It was just one more stupid decision this week.

Her first instinct was to call Castle, _again_ , and see if he was there. To let him know she was coming and ask him whether he needed anything. But she'd made almost a dozen calls to his cell already today and he hadn't answered a single one.

She put the phone back into her pocket before she pressed his number and rushed back outside to flag another taxi.

* * *

 _Castle residence, NYC_

It didn't take Beckett long to get home, even in the late rush hour traffic and once she was inside the building elevator she pressed the "close door" button three times, as if that would speed things up.

She had no idea what she'd say once she stepped through the doors of the loft, but her determination to grab her husband and hold on to him tight was still there. If she couldn't use words to convince him that she'd never hurt his family, then she'd find another way.

"Castle?" her voice thundered through the loft as soon as she stepped inside. All lights were off and the complete darkness took Beckett by surprise. She flicked on a light switch that instantly illuminated the empty living room. "Castle?" she repeated.

If he'd taken Martha home she'd be upstairs in her room. But was his mother well enough to walk up the stairs?

Beckett didn't bother taking off her coat or shoes as she half-sprinted across the living room to the master bedroom. Letting Martha sleep there seemed like the logical solution, but that bedroom was empty too. Beckett turned around and walked back to the staircase and then raced upstairs.

The upstairs hallway was dark too.

"Castle?" she repeated, no longer expecting to hear an answer.

Beckett turned on another set of lights and slowly opened the door of Martha's bedroom, only to find that it was eerily deserted too.

The entire loft was lifeless and empty.

Her family was gone.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter XXIII**

 _Five days later_

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

"Thank you again, Sylvie," Castle told her a second time, holding the front door open for the young woman. "For everything you've done for my mother. She already looks so much better than when we got here."

"It is my pleasure, _Monsieur_ Castle," the nurse replied with a broad smile. "She is a wonderful lady."

Castle saw that the taxi he'd called earlier was already in the driveway and the guard he had stationed outside the door was ready to escort Sylvie into it.

" _A demain,"_ she told him with a wave and Castle watched her walk to the waiting car in the fading light of early evening. The young Montreal transplant had been Martha's live-in nurse for the first two nights, in case mother needed more medical attention than he or Alexis were capable of giving her, but now, five days later, Sylvie only came by twice a day.

 _"The bruises will look worse before they look better, but they are healing remarkably well for her age and for the broken ribs, Monsieur Castle, there is not much anybody can do, except wait for them to heal. I have shown Madame Rodgers how to breathe and how to sit in order to be as comfortable as possible. To take the pain medication when she needs it. That is all I can do for her until they heal."_

Sylvie sometimes looked at him the way his fans did at book signings. As though she might have a bit of a crush on him. Castle repaid her adoration in kindness and if that made her lavish even more meticulous care on his mother than she needed to, then he was fine by that. He could muster an occasional movie-star smile for Sylvie.

"Dad," Alexis padded towards him in pyjamas and flip-flops, her pink-purple toe nails testament to a labour of love that she'd started over an hour ago and only just finished now. It was a testament to her extreme boredom too, because the miserable weather of the past few days meant she'd rarely left their Hampton home. Sometimes she went for chilly walks into town, or along the beach, but mostly she poured over her college textbooks for the two courses she was taking and watched TV in between fussing over her grandmother.

"Jennifer says she can pick me up and take me into the city. She spent the weekend near Commack to visit her parents and said it wouldn't any trouble if-"

"George is taking you into the city," Castle told her.

Alexis groaned. "Dad! I don't want to spend the entire ride to Manhattan in a car with a guy I barely know, whose only way of communicating is in monosyllabic grunts!"

Castle almost responded with an eye roll. The exasperated kind that Beckett had mastered in the first three years of their partnership. His daughter could be so dramatic; proof that she really was the child and grandchild of actresses. But she was his beautiful, brilliant, sarcastic daughter too and Castle loved her to pieces and he'd be damned if he'd take any more risks. "It's supposed to be a safe means of transportation, not a party."

"Aside from you and Gram, I haven't talked to another human being face to face in the last five days. I'm going stir crazy!" She was in full-on pout mode now, reminding him that she wasn't far past her teenage years. "You do realize that I'm an adult and that if I choose to ride into town with my friend instead of your bodyguard there's really not much you can do."

"You do realize that your grandmother is upstairs recovering from a violent attack and that I'm only trying to keep you safe, right?" he said softly.

Alexis bit on the inside of her cheek. "Okay, okay."

"Thank you," he acquiesced with a subtle nod.

"Dad?"

"What?"

"Kate's gonna be at the loft. What do I tell her when she starts interrogating me about where you are?"

"Interrogating?" Castle shrugged. "Just tell her you don't know."

"You seriously think she'll believe that?"

"So what? I'm sure she won't waterboard it out of you."

"Can't she run a credit card trace? She'll know we ordered Chinese take-out last night."

"And Mexican the night before. What does it matter?" Castle asked her with another shrug. He wanted to sit down on the sofa but Alexis and her pink-purple toenails already staked that claim. She put a towel on the coffee table and got ready to do her fingernails. "Besides, Beckett's not a cop anymore," he added. Merely saying it left a bitter taste in his mouth. No matter how angry he was, he still felt guilty for his part in ending her career with the NYPD. "She's not going to run a credit card trace from the loft."

 _But she can always ask the boys to do it for her_ , he thought. They'd do it, no questions asked. That's how deep their loyalty to her ran.

"Okay then," Alexis mumbled.

"I'm going to check on Gram and then work on some writing in the study," he told her, grabbing the handrail. "G'night, Pumpkin."

"'Night, Dad."

Castle thought about her words as he climbed the steps. No matter how badly he needed the distance after the attack on Martha, he couldn't run from his wife forever. Beckett _would_ find him and they did need to talk. He needed to go back to the loft soon and get some more things. Heck, Martha would soon be ordering them all to go back.

Quietly convalescing here, away from the bustling city, in a place where you needed a car or a bike to get around wasn't exactly his mother's style. She needed more people around than him and a nurse. Once she was able to get around better, Martha would need follow-up care, cosmetic surgery possibly, but more than that she needed the company of her many friends. Dinners and concerts and plays. That would aid her recovery more than anything else.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Castle pulled it out. Beckett had left him so many messages this week he'd lost track. He'd found the willpower not to answer them but he didn't have the willpower not to look at them. They reminded him of the texts he'd sent her when she left him for two months because they'd varied as much as his. Some were desperate and loving and others were angry and bitter. Like this one.

 _-I thought we were done running from each other. If you have to yell at least do it to my face. You owe me that much._

Rick tried to take a deep breath with his next step forward and failed. He wasn't very good at yelling. Neither was Beckett. He could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of arguments they had where either of them raised their voices. Seemed like both of them always chose flight over fight.

 _Besides, when we do fight, I tend to lose._

He was almost incapable of staying angry with her. Always had been. All it took was one electric touch, one heartbreaking smile, or one look from those eyes that could say more in a single glance than he could on an entire page, and suddenly his anger no longer stood a chance.

It was _why_ he left.

He ran off to the Hamptons not only to convalesce somewhere safe, but also to collect his thoughts and to nourish his anger. Give it some defenses against this mad, blind love for his wife, because he needed it. He could live with the fact that his love for Beckett might break his heart, _that_ had always been a risk worth taking, but this time it had broken his family. And he couldn't live with that.

His mother and his daughter deserved better and it was time for him to step up and keep them safe. It never should have been Beckett's responsibility in the first place. He should have let her go when she decided to follow LokSat on her own.

But of course he couldn't. He'd wanted her back so badly. He'd pulled Kate back into his world, in spite of all her protests and warnings.

Then he'd placed all his bets on her ability to back down, and as a result his mother was lying in bed with a broken nose and broken ribs and too many bruises to count. Because he'd trusted Kate to do whatever it took to prevent this and she couldn't _. Didn't_. Surely what happened to his mother was proof of that.

Castle opened the door of his mother's bedroom and saw the reminder of his mistakes sitting up in the massive king-sized bed, propped up against a mound of pillows that Sylvie had put there to maximize her comfort.

"Mother," he plastered a pathetic smile onto his face and sat down on the bed next to her. "How are you feeling? Is there anything you need?"

"Sylvie got me what I needed," she told him, holding up the cell phone that she'd been without the last five days. "It was in a bottom pocket of the suitcase. No wonder you couldn't find it."

Castle didn't say anything. He hadn't 'found' it on purpose. Had wanted to shield her from the outside world for as long as possible. "Sylvie's visits usually tire you out. Why don't you sleep and check it in the morning?" he suggested.

"Oh Richard," she chided him. "Stop treating me like a child." She sounded funny when she spoke. There was so much dressing on her face that parts of her words were muffled and slurred, as though her mouth was full of cotton. One of her eyes was wrapped up too. So was her nose and part of her left chin. Swollen, purple blotches were making their way out onto her face, as if they were leaking out from behind the bandages.

Her whole face was a ghastly mess and it was heartbreaking. It took every ounce of willpower to sit here and try and have a normal conversation, without ramming his fist into the wall in anger. Without personally tracking down the man who did this and killing him with his bare hands. What kind of a human being beat up a grandmother that barely weighed a hundred pounds?

"There are texts from Katherine," Martha garbled, her one unmasked eye staring into both of his in confusion. "She sends-" Martha swallowed with difficulty. "Her love. Says she hopes I'm okay." She moved a fraction of an inch and winced as her broken ribs protested. "Haven't you told her?"

"No," he admitted. "We haven't spoken in days."

"Why?"

"We needed some time apart."

"Richard?"

He reached over to give her hand a squeeze. "Not now, Mother, please. You're tired. We can chat over breakfast."

"I asked you not to treat me like a child," her swollen lips hissed. "I have broken ribs, not brain damage."

Castle was taken aback by the ferocity of her words. But he shouldn't have been. This was Martha Rodgers. Down but not out. Never out.

"We had some disagreements that were too big to deal with. So we needed some time apart, for both our sakes. That's all."

"This doesn't have anything to do with what happened to me, does it?"

"No," he lied. "Of course not. Things changed after Rikers, that's all."

"Really?" She narrowed her one visible eye, letting him know she wasn't buying it. "Last week you two were like two teenagers who couldn't keep their hands off each other."

Castle grasped at the bed sheet with his fingers and then pushed himself off the bed. "I made minestrone. It's delicious, if I do say so," he told her, attempting to lighten the mood and change the topic. "Let me bring you some for dinner before it gets too late and the pain meds knock you out for the night."

Martha sighed. A mix of indignation and exhaustion. The visits from Sylvie really did take a lot out of her. Maybe it was best to stay out here for at least another week. Maybe Alexis could bring him back some things from the loft when she came back next weekend.

 _Or maybe Kate could._

Castle wondered what she was doing. How was her last day at work? He'd never have imagined that he wouldn't there for that. Not after all the cases they'd solved together. How bad were the nightmares when he wasn't around?

"Stop," he mumbled to himself as he made his way out of Martha's room. "Just _stop_."

He could bring himself to stay away from her. He was capable of ignoring her calls and texts but when it came to his thoughts and dreams he was powerless. They always, _always_ , went straight back to her, no matter how angry he was and how many distractions he planted in front of them.

* * *

 _Castle Residence, NYC_

 _Next day_

Kate Beckett yawned as she flipped over the final page of the document inside the file folder. She was sitting alone at her desk in the loft. The desk that had simply been there one day when she got home from work.

 _"You bought me a desk? Across from yours? What's the occasion?"_

 _"No occasion. You need a desk."_

 _"There's a desk in the guest room. I've been using that-"_

 _"I know. Too far away,"_ he'd cut her off _. "You're my muse. Makes sense that I should be able to see you when I write, don't you think?"_

 _"I'm hardly home when you write."_

 _"But when you_ are _home,"_ he'd argued _._

Not that there was any point in arguing when it came to Castle and his need to buy her things on impulse. She should have been annoyed that he hadn't so much as asked her what kind of desk she might like, except- except it was _exactly_ what she'd have chosen herself. No, that wasn't entirely true. It was exactly what she'd have longed for after seeing it in one of those lavish modern furniture stores but would never have considered buying after seeing the price tag.

But here she was, sitting at her stylish, highly ergonomic Scandinavian work space. Alone. Inspiring and distracting no one.

 _I miss you so much._

Beckett's fingers cupped the ceramic coffee mug with the large NYPD logo on it that was sitting on the desk and let its warmth course right through to her bones. She'd been savouring it for the last hour and kept adding warm milk when it got cold. It was mostly milk now, along with half a spoon of hot chocolate mix. A sweet and diluted cafe mocha. Still, she lifted the cup to her lips, took a long, slow sip and savoured it.

She'd gone to see her OB/GYN three days ago and had a dating ultrasound where the doctor confirmed what the drugstore test told her last week.

She _was_ pregnant. Nine weeks then and closer to ten now.

It still overwhelmed her, every time she stopped what she was doing and really thought about it. If all went well, she'd be a mother in less than seven months.

Beckett wasn't any more ready than she'd been a week ago when she told Castle it was too soon to start planning. But that was irrelevant now.

Barring any major catastrophe, it was going to happen. Especially after her doctor confirmed that so far everything was perfectly fine. Just as Lanie predicted, she'd been given a few supplements to take, a handful of brochures to read about the changes coming to her body and how to adjust to them, things she needed to avoid, and most importantly, she'd left with a clean bill of health. The doctor told her to see a cardiologist to make sure her bullet-damaged heart was up for the task of natural childbirth and to come back once a month until her third trimester and then bi-weekly after that, to make sure everything was proceeding without complications.

Just like that. She was on her way to motherhood.

Lanie was still the only one who knew and Beckett was determined to keep it that way until she had a chance to tell Castle. She thought about telling him all the time. But she was determined to say it to his face and for that they needed to be in the same room sometime soon.

Aside from that, not all that much had changed. She wasn't showing yet and probably wouldn't for at least another month or so. In fact, she'd only begun to regain the weight she'd lost in the last three months.

The hardest thing so far had been cutting back her coffee intake. The withdrawal headaches had been fierce the first two days, and they'd kept her from chasing after Castle, or doing much of anything over the weekend, but now they were gone and she felt good. She still had no nausea or any hints of morning sickness and the doctor told her that her chances of getting it once she reached the second trimester were almost nil.

Beckett still tired easily but she'd also stopped fighting it. If her body wanted a nap, she'd indulge it because this wasn't about her anymore. It took her by surprise, how fiercely protective she already was about life growing inside her.

The weird cravings were still there too. Yesterday it was baklava, so she walked the streets of Greenwich Village on a hunt for pistachio-filled phyllo pastries after weeks of lusting for Kalamata olives. Maybe they really were going to have a Greek baby.

The thought lifted her lips into a smile. That happened more often these days too, in spite of everything. In spite of how much it hurt to think that she might have lost her husband, in spite of the nightmares that still woke her up in tears at night, in spite of how much she missed being a cop, in spite of _all_ of it; the thought that she was carrying a life inside her made her neither anxious nor fearful. It calmed her down and gave her something good and wonderful to focus on; something that was bigger than all the chaos in her life.

Sometimes, out of nowhere, a formerly familiar smell would suddenly made her feel sick. Not to the point of throwing up but bad enough that she avoided them like the plague. It happened last Friday, when the precinct threw her a going-away party and Fung brought in a box of her favourite dim sum. It took a lot of effort to stop from gagging after Fung opened the box and the smell of shrimp and warm dough made her stomach do all sorts of flip flops. Even more so to reach in and take a bite of one.

But she'd pulled it off, even as she caught Ryan giving her weird looks.

Beckett wondered whether Ryan suspected anything. Whether all pregnant women gave off some odd signals that he was now familiar with.

Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

The going away party was such a small affair that Beckett felt as though she'd left with a whimper not a bang. Ryan gave a short, heartfelt speech and Lanie took photos while the rest of the precinct stood up and applauded. Beckett was grateful for all of it but neither Esposito nor Castle were there and that hurt.

 _"I'll find a way to fix it,"_ she thought, staring at the papers on her desk while taking another sip of milky coffee.

The file folder came from London in a FedEx envelope yesterday and had taken her several hours to read. Much of it was written in legalese and she was glad for both her pre-law college background and all the legal jargon she'd grown familiar with during her years in law enforcement. Otherwise she'd still be slogging through it.

But like the baby, it was one more positive thing to focus on. To help create an organization that had the potential to do so much good. For now it was all about legalities and technicalities, but the end goal was already in her sights. Beckett had had two Skype meetings with Vaughn already and he'd asked her to fly to London next month so she could begin handpicking his local representatives.

He'd also signed her up for an intense protective-services course in DC next month.

Beckett realized that she'd have to let him know she was pregnant, because it might affect her abilities to travel and to do some of the work he had in mind.

 _But not before I tell my husband._

Beckett heard the keys turning in the door of the loft and it jarred her from her thoughts.

 _Rick?_

She bolted out of her chair and rushed into the living room.

Her disappointment must have been palpable when she saw Alexis come through the door.

"Sorry," Alexis mumbled, setting down a carry-on suitcase aside next to the door while taking off a pair of knee-high leather boots. "Guess I'm not the Castle you were hoping for."

Beckett forced a smile. "It's always nice to see you, Alexis."

Little Castle nodded and an uncomfortable silence hung between them as neither woman knew what to say next.

Beckett broke it when she stepped towards the entrance of the loft. "How's Martha?"

"She's getting better. Dad's making sure she has the best care."

 _Of course he is._

Freed of her boots and coat, Alexis grabbed the carry-on case. "I'll be upstairs," she told Beckett. "I won't get in your way."

"Alexis, wait!" Beckett took another step towards her and she was almost close enough to grab her arm. "You're not in my way. This is your place too. Please, I've been trying to reach your Dad for days and he's not answering any of my calls and texts. Will you at least tell me where he is?"

"He's taking care of Gram."

"Where? I need to see him. I want to see Martha too."

Alexis stopped and Beckett thought she recognized the same irritation on her face that was there when she'd first returned home after chasing LokSat.

"He needs some time, Kate."

"Time? How much time?"

"I don't know!"

"Alexis, please," Beckett repeated. "There've been some misunderstandings between your Dad and myself. I want to sort them out but I can't do that if he's running from me."

"Can't you just respect that he needs some time?" Alexis asked her. "Last I remember you left him for almost two months. You can't even give him a week in exchange?"

Beckett bit back the anger that suddenly flushed her cheeks. "Yeah, well. I was wrong. Just like he's wrong now." She remembered all his texts during her absence too; texts and calls and the occasional angry visits to the precinct. Castle hadn't accepted her absence any more than she was willing to accept his. But maybe Alexis didn't know that.

It was time to stop acting like kids and running away every time they had a problem. _Especially now that we're having a kid._

"Least you can do is give him a week," Alexis added. "Seems only fair to me."

"Thanks, Dr. Phil."

 _Oh crap._ Beckett groaned and wanted to take back her words the second they escaped her lips. So much for getting Alexis on her side. Not that it would ever happen anyway.

"Anytime," Alexis shot back icily before turning her back and noisily dragging her little suitcase up the stairs, one angry step at a time.

* * *

 _Later_

It was the smell of cooking that drove Alexis from her room after catching up on her college reading online.

She'd planned on heading over to the PI agency soon anyway, maybe grab some take-out on the way there, but the smell coming from the kitchen reminded her just how hungry she was. The mouth-watering scent wormed its way into her nose and made itself annoyingly comfortable there.

"No wonder," Alexis thought when she saw the time on her cell phone. It was getting late and she hadn't eaten anything since devouring her Dad's pancakes in the Hamptons this morning.

She grabbed the phone as well as an insulated jean jacket and made her way downstairs, where she saw Beckett perched on a bar stool in the kitchen, digging into a bowl of food in front of her. An array of unwashed pots and pans sat on the counter top, lingering evidence of the home-cooked-meal-smell that had brought her down here.

Alexis saw Beckett raise her head in her direction, even though she'd been stealthily quiet in her wool socks.

She had nothing else to say to Kate and planned on slipping into her boots and leaving the loft without a word.

"Hey Alexis," Beckett acknowledged her presence. "You hungry?"

Alexis cocked her head in Kate's direction. It did smell surprisingly good.

"There's lots of food left," Beckett told her, mouth half full. "Take whatever you like."

Her head already said "thanks but no thanks" but her stomach had other ideas and suddenly she set down her jacket as her legs propelled her into the kitchen against her will.

Alexis spotted a pot of pasta next to a frying pan with a generous amount of chicken and vegetables swimming in some sort of cream sauce.

She could scoop some of both into a take-out container and bring it to the PI agency. Her arms already reached up into the cabinet to grab the necessary Tupperware when she suddenly stopped and grabbed a bowl of china instead. Alexis helped herself to a fair amount of food, walked over to the counter and pulled out a bar stool across from Beckett.

"Thanks," she said, meeting the older woman's eyes. This was her home too. Why was sneaking around in it like she didn't belong?

"It's not as tasty as your Dad's recipe," Beckett warned her jokingly.

Alexis had already wolfed down three bites. Beckett was right, it wasn't. But it was close. "No, it's good. Really good." Since when did Kate cook anyway? On the rare occasions when her Dad wasn't home to whip up a storm in the kitchen, Beckett usually opted for take-out. Chinese mostly. Sometimes pizza. How she stayed so skinny with her penchant for junk food and snacks had always been a marvel to Alexis.

That said, Beckett looked good right now. She definitely wasn't as scary thin anymore as she had been when she came out of Rikers.

"I'm sorry," Beckett said out of nowhere, wiping her lips with a napkin after finished off the last bit of her meal. "About before," she explained. "I don't want to fight with you, Alexis. I know you're just looking out for your Dad."

The unexpected apology caught her off guard. "Okay," was all she could muster between bites.

"I got frustrated," Kate went on. "I took it out on you. But you shouldn't be caught in the middle of our messes."

Alexis swallowed. Was she _trying_ to make her feel guilty? "It's okay. You're allowed to get frustrated. I'm not always-" She stopped mid-sentence. Not always what? Fair? Kind? Unbiased? Her cheeks flushed with warmth. It was true. All of it.

Ever since her father had decided to shadow Beckett at the NYPD and risk his life in the process, Alexis had subconsciously blamed Kate for it. For putting him in harm's way as though Beckett had asked him to do it.

After Beckett and her Dad starting seeing each other, Kate had always been kind to her. She'd never hesitated when Alexis asked her for help and had always gone out of her way not to come between her and her father.

Beckett was the one who'd reached out to her after she broke up with Pi and told her to come back home, even though she probably would have loved to have a place that she and Dad could call their own. Who wouldn't prefer not to have a guy's mother and daughter lurking around in the early stages of a romantic relationship?

 _But I always forget about all that. I just blame you every time something goes wrong between you and Dad._

They all made mistakes. She did. Gram did. Her Dad too. But Alexis always forgave them because they were family.

She thought back to her their last argument with Beckett.

 _"We missed you, you know. Not just Dad, but all of us. You were part of our family."_

She'd been quick to accuse Beckett of not putting her family first, but in reality she still didn't treat Beckett like family. Not really.

Alexis had always been accepting and polite, because that's who she was, but she'd never gone beyond that. Had never made a genuine effort to let her know she was loved on her own merits. Not just because she was Dad's new wife.

Alexis's appetite was suddenly gone.

She barely noticed Beckett wrinkling her forehead in concentration and observing her quietly.

"You don't have to eat it just because you don't want to hurt my feelings," Beckett told her. Gently. Amused. "I know I'm not a great cook."

Alexis raised her brows. "What?"

"The mushroom sauce," Beckett told her. "It probably needs salt. Or some Italian herb that I don't even know exists."

Alexis stared into her bowl of pasta. "No, it's good. I meant it."

"You okay?"

There it was again. Kindness. Even though Beckett probably knew it wouldn't be repaid.

Alexis nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"For always taking Dad's side," she told her. "I don't even know why you left for two months or why he took off to the Hamptons without a word to you. I just always assume it's...your fault."

Beckett chuckled. ""Sometimes it is."

"I know," Alexis told her. "But not always. I'm not some big relationship expert or anything, but I've dated enough guys not to know that it takes two. My Dad's not perfect either and you - you've only ever been nice to me."

"Hey," Beckett fiddled with her fork. "It's okay. You're looking out for him. It's sweet-" A lopsided smile lifted her lips. "Most of the time."

"I'm sorry," Alexis said it again. Because she needed to.

"I never want to hurt him either," Beckett told her. "But I don't always succeed." She pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. "So, Hamptons, huh?"

"He wanted to take Gram out of the city. Somewhere safe and quiet for her to recover."

"Did he say how long he's planning on staying there?"

"'Til the end of the week probably. Until Gram forces him to take her back."

"She would, wouldn't she?" Beckett was amused at first and then serious. "Will you be upset if I decide to go there and see them?"

"No." Alexis shook her head. She meant it too and that surprised her. "You should go see him and I think Gram would love to see you."

"Okay," Beckett exhaled and for a moment Alexis thought she was nervous. Tentative and hesitant too. None of which were very Beckett-like traits.

"So you're going to go tomorrow morning?"

"I was thinking right now."

"Now?" Alexis's eyes widened. "But it's late."

"I know-" She truly was nervous. It was obvious now. "But I really need to see your Dad."

"You should go then," Alexis told her. "Can you take some stuff for Dad if you're going? He packed everything so quickly when he went that he forgot a bunch of stuff that he asked me to bring next weekend."

"Yeah, of course," Beckett replied. "Tell me what he needs."

Alexis dug into her pasta. Her appetite was quickly coming back. "Let me finish this and then I'll help you pack it."

"Okay."

Beckett slid off the barstool and took her dishes to the sink. She started clearing the others on the stove too.

"Leave that," Alexis told her. "I'll do it. Just do whatever you need to get ready."

"You sure?"

"Yes," Alexis grinned. "Go."

They were done in less than an hour. Beckett showered and changed and Alexis handed her the duffel bag full of the stuff that her Dad asked her to bring. He'd probably be furious that Alexis had given it all to Kate but she'd worry about that later.

"Dad took the Mercedes," Alexis told her when she noticed only one set of car keys hanging on the ring by the door. "You're stuck with the Ferrari."

"In that case, I'll be there in an hour."

"You have to teach me how to drive that thing one day, okay? Dad keeps refusing."

"Deal."

"But seriously, drive carefully."

"Mmm...will do." Beckett nodded and there was an awkward moment before Alexis pulled her into a hug.

"I hope everything works out with you and Dad," she said softly. "But even if it doesn't, you're still family. I want you to know that. Sorry it took me so long to say it."

Kate held on tight and when she pulled away Alexis saw that her eyes were moist. "Thank you."

* * *

 _Later_

Ferrari or not, it took Beckett over two hours to get to the easternmost point of Long Island, thanks to the inevitable rush hour mess on the 495, followed by a wet slushy rain that further slowed everything down.

It was tragic really, to be behind the wheels of such a marvel of automotive engineering, capable of going over 200 miles per hour, unable to even hit one hundred because of forces outside her control.

By now she'd left the main highway and was stuck behind a mini-van ambling along at 40 miles an hour. Old Beckett would have passed him by now, illegally or otherwise, but Mama Beckett took it easy. She patiently stayed behind him and stared at the windshield wipers furiously whipping back and forth in front of her.

It was ominously dark by the time she pulled up in the driveway of Castle's massive Hampton home twenty minutes later. Funny, that she still didn't think of it as hers, even though they didn't have a pre-nup and technically, everything of his belonged to her too now. He'd wanted it that way, in spite of her protests.

 _"You're awfully trusting for someone who's on his third marriage."_

 _"Not really,"_ he'd replied. _"But I know you. You and all your pride would rather be a mall cop than fight for my assets."_

 _"Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that,"_ she'd licked her lips in response and pinched one of his assets. _"Some of your assets I'd be very willing to fight for. Claws and all."_

 _"Is that a threat?"_

 _"A promise."_

Kate swallowed, feeling her throat constrict at the memory. They'd made out after that promise. Right here in the Hamptons, a day after their impromptu wedding.

Maybe that's why the memory came to her now.

Alexis's unexpected support had buoyed her on the way here, but all that optimism was starting to fade now that she'd parked the Ferrari in the driveway and stared at the shadowy outline of the massive house looming in front of her.

She had no idea what to say to him, how receptive he'd be having her here. Whether he'd be angry or maybe even happy to see her.

A gust of wind swept a cold wall of rain over her as soon as she opened the door.

"Great," she grumbled, moving a wet strand of hair that diagonally crossed her face before something else blocked her view of the house.

"Hands in the air."

The man had come from nowhere and he was holding a gun aimed right at her.

Beckett did as he asked, panic shooting up through all her limbs, making them weak and rubbery. Where the hell had he come from? Did someone follow her from Manhattan? Was she that careless less than a week after quitting her job that she hadn't noticed?

"Who are you?" she managed to get out. Between the wild pounding of her heart and the heavy rain that pummelled down onto the asphalt under her feet, she could barely hear her own voice.

"Hands where I can see them and don't make another move." The man with the gun stepped towards her and was about to do...something when another gust of wind blew a wall of rain into his face.

It was all the distraction Beckett needed to make her move.

Beckett spun around and grabbed his wrist, pointing the gun up into the skies and forcing him to fire a shot into the air. She yanked his arm back and pressed her body mass against him, throwing him off balance just enough that she could whip one of her legs under his and knock him off his feet.

Kate saw the gun flying off onto the driveway and went hard down on top of him. She didn't need his gun. Pinning one of her knees right into his back, Beckett pulled her own weapon from the holster inside her leather jacket and pointed it straight at his head.

"I asked you who you are," she hissed. The rain had already soaked them and heavy drops trickled down her hair right onto the back of the man's neck, when suddenly both of them were illuminated by a burst of light coming from the main door of the house.

 _"Beckett?"_

From the corner of her eyes, she made out Castle's familiar silhouette inside the doorframe. But she didn't take her attention off the man pinned underneath her for one second. She kept her gun pointed at his head.

"Beckett!" Castle was in the driveway too now, standing next to them in the rain and staring at her incredulously. "What the hell are you doing to my security guard?"


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Sorry! Unexpected mini-hiatus last week when life got a little crazy. Hoping to stick to a Sunday posting schedule from now on. Thanks for reading and thanks for your patience. :)

* * *

 **Chapter XXIV**

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

Kate Beckett had changed into a dry sweat shirt and shorts and now she sat at the dining room table with a towel wrapped around her wet hair and watched Castle patch up his bodyguard.

Apparently she'd given him a bloody bump on the head when she'd tackled him on the driveway about twenty minutes earlier.

The guy winced and turned in her direction when Castle put some sort of disinfectant on it. "I could press charges, you know," he told her.

"Maybe then I'll file counter charges," she shot back. "For doing a shit job protecting the people in this house."

"Hey," Castle cut in. "Do you mind?"

"I'm fine by the way," she added. "Which is kind of sad given that Rambo here is about a hundred pounds heavier than I am, and he was the one holding a gun. Really, Castle? This is the kind of bodyguard top dollar gets you these days?"

Beckett would have missed it if she'd blinked, but she didn't, and she caught the momentary flash of pride on her husband's face.

"Listen-" the bodyguard was about to pipe up, but Castle shut him down too, just as he smoothed a giant band-aid over the cut on his head.

"Stop it. Both of you." Castle glared at the man. "She's right. You might as well go home. If you can't protect us against an unarmed woman, what good are you to me?"

"Sir, she was not-"

But Castle wasn't having it and Kate watched the man leave the house with his tail between his legs.

 _Good,_ she thought. _He should._

"What are you doing here, Beckett?" Castle asked her wearily when he came back into the room.

"Taking over for your bodyguard apparently."

"Funny."

"Is it?" She leaned her elbows on the table. "Why did you hire a bodyguard, Rick? What kind of danger are you in? Is there something you're not telling me?"

He sat down across from her, giving her to chance to really look at him for the first time since she got here. Jeans and wrinkled t-shirt, five-day stubble and bags under his eyes. It made her want to reach for him and soothe all the worry lines away with her lips, while her fingertips trailed his prickly chin.

"That's rich," he sighed. "Coming from you."

An angry heat began to creep up her throat. "We need to talk, Rick. About whatever you think I did. Or didn't do."

"You're right," he acknowledged softly, his eyes truly meeting hers for the first time since she arrived. "We do need to talk."

"Katherine?"

Both their heads whipped around to see Martha coming down the stairs.

Castle jumped up from his chair. "Mother? What are you doing? I don't think you're up for tackling the stairs yet."

But Martha was already halfway down and Beckett could see why Castle was concerned. Every step she took was painstakingly slow and one of her arms was draped across her ribs, shielding them from each movement as best as she could. Parts of her face were still bandaged too. Everything about her was so fragile and cautious that it made Beckett wince.

"I heard a commotion downstairs," Martha explained. "I wanted to see what was going on."

Castle already had one arm around his mother, guiding her to the chairs at the table, when Kate joined him at Martha's other side.

With their assistance, the older woman slowly sat down, her spine painfully straight to protect her broken ribs. Then she smiled at Kate. "It's good to see you here, Katherine. I hope that means you two crazy kids have worked things out." She grimaced. "Because really, that's the last thing I want to worry about right now."

Kate mustered her best fake smile. "No need to worry about us, Martha. How are you doing?"

"Oh, you, know," she did a little wave with her hand. "I've been better." She turned to Rick. "You know what I would really love? A tall glass of Merlot."

"You know that's not a good idea with the pain medication, Mother."

Martha sighed. "Oh Richard, since when are you such a stickler? You do know that actors only take those things with wine."

Kate bit back a chuckle. "How about a glass with dinner tomorrow night?"

Martha's swollen lips almost resembled a smile. "That's a deal. I'll take it." She held Beckett's gaze. "In the meantime, how about a glass of soda water?"

"Coming up," Castle told her, escaping the room all too eagerly.

When he came back he'd composed himself enough to make the kind of small talk that used to be easy and natural between them. Beckett wasn't as good at it as he was. She didn't have any of the Rodgers acting genes in her blood.

Thankfully it didn't take long for Martha to begin losing the struggle to keep her eyes open.

"Sleep in the master bedroom," Castle offered her. "Don't make the trek back upstairs. "

"Nonsense," she said with a wave of the hand. "It's high time for me to stop lying around and start exercising again before all my old muscles atrophy." She turned her attention to Beckett and held out her arm. "Katherine, do you mind?"

Beckett got up and slid her arm under Martha's. "Of course not."

Castle did the same and all three of them slowly, meticulously made their way back up the stairs. Beckett noticed the effort it took for Martha when she spotted tiny pearls of perspiration around the woman's forehead.

"I-" Martha hesitated and turned to Beckett again. "With Sylvie gone for the night, I could use some help in the bathroom if it's not too much-"

"No trouble," Kate cut her off. "At all."

Rick reluctantly let go of his mother's hand as they made their way into the upstairs bathroom. "I can help if-"

Beckett put a hand on his arm. "Babe, I've got this."

It was only when they were inside that Beckett saw Martha letting go. Letting her see the toll that the climb up the stairs took on her.

"I don't usually need any help after Sylvie leaves for the day," Martha explained. "But now I'm all sweaty and I don't want to go to bed like this-"

"You don't have to explain," Beckett insisted as she helped her undo the bathrobe. Made her sit down on top of the toilet seat cover and grabbed a face towel that she held under lukewarm water and then lathered with shower gel.

"It really is nice," Martha told her softly, the exhaustion seeping into her voice now. "To have you here now that Alexis is back in the city. To not have to ask my son for help with things that are so...intimate."

Kate swallowed as she began to dab the face cloth under Martha's arms. Tried not to stare at the swelling on her face. A guilty knot was forming in her gut even as she smiled at Martha. "Us girls have to stick together."

When they were done, Beckett led her back into the bedroom and propped up the pillows exactly as Martha told her to, before pouring out a pill from one of the three containers on the night stand and handing it to her mother-in-law with a glass of water.

"Martha-"

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say that-" God, this was hard to put into words. "If there's anything you need, not physically but..." She searched for the right phrase and probably failed miserably. "Emotionally. That- I'm here if you need me. After a traumatic event like this, the first few days, they're usually just about getting through the day but once your body heals, sometimes that's when- when your mind catches up. I know, because I've been there."

Beckett was sitting on the edge of Martha's massive bed and her fingers toyed with the thick comforter underneath them. She didn't want to think about Martha feeling the kind of panic and anxiety that nearly crippled her after the shooting and threatened to rise to the surface all over again after her stay at Rikers. It probably would have, if it hadn't been for Castle and all the care, love and patience that he'd lavished on her.

She didn't want that for Martha. Vibrant, joyful Martha Rodgers.

She felt Martha's hand glide over her own.

"I know, darling," Martha admitted. "It's only happened a couple of times so far when my mind goes back to that instant when the man grabbed-" Her voice choked and suddenly Beckett wanted to kick herself for bringing this up.

A thick tear ran down Martha's cheek and Kate grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and gently dabbed at it.

"If you need to talk or need someone to listen, someone who's been there..." Beckett wrapped both her hands around Martha's one. "I'm here. You don't have to be brave with me, okay?"

"All right." Martha squeezed her hand back even though her voice was still shaky. "You got it, kiddo. I might just take you up on that."

Beckett planted a kiss on the older woman's forehead before she reached over to the bedside lamp and turned off the light.

When she got back downstairs she found Castle sitting at the dining room table, a bottle of red wine on the table top and a glass of it in his hands. There was a second, empty glass next to the bottle and he was about to pour her some but Beckett shook her head, so he stopped before he started, without asking why.

Beckett wasn't an alcoholic, not by a long shot, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't crave a glass now. Something to take the edge off her nervous exhaustion. Something to help ease her into this conversation.

"Thank you," Castle mumbled. "For doing that for her."

Beckett went over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, grateful to spot a large container of orange juice inside. She poured some into a glass and walked back outside to join Castle at the table. He'd already emptied his glass of wine.

"You don't have to thank me for helping Martha. I love her too."

"Why did you come here, Kate?"

It hurt. The way he said it and that he felt the need to say it at all. Beckett had to make a concerted effort not to let it show. She trailed her index finger along the rim of the glass. "I'm here because we need to talk." Beckett levelled her eyes with his and decided she wasn't going to shed any more tears. Not tonight. "Because you ran off in anger and didn't even give me a chance to explain. _Because I'm your wife_."

"Explain what?"

"I need you to know that I did everything I could to keep our family safe."

"You knew Espo was still investigating Vikram's murder. You admitted that at the hospital. Was that not the truth?"

"I knew he was digging around but every time I caught him I told him to stop."

"You told him?"

"Yeah," Beckett searched his face for traces of the man who still loved her. "What else could I do?"

Castle took another sip of wine while staring at his glass. "Tell _me_ maybe?"

"Tell you?"

"If I'd known I could have done something- made sure that Mother and Alexis were protected-"

"With what? That useless bodyguard that protected you tonight?"

He tightened his lips, clearly not appreciating that reminder. "Why didn't you order him to stop? As Captain, you had the authority to do that. To suspend his ass if he didn't. You knew what was at stake!"

Beckett swallowed and ran a hand through her hair. It was a good question. "You're right, I should've come down harder on him. Maybe I didn't because...I thought I wouldn't need to. I thought he respected me enough that it wasn't necessary. Or maybe it was because I didn't want to push too hard. Didn't want to make him and Gates even more suspicious than they already were. Suspending a detective for investigating an active case that was originally assigned to him was never an option, babe. You know that."

"Or maybe deep down you wanted to see what he'd find out if he kept investigating?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. It was getting harder to hold back the tears. "Are you really asking me that, _after everything_?"

He nearly finished another glass of wine. "You're not answering."

"Are you kidding me?" Beckett glared at him, done with begging for forgiveness. "I didn't just resign for our family, Rick. I wilfully obstructed an investigation. When Detective Fung brought me a lead concerning the disabled traffic cams when I was kidnapped, I tabled it. When Ryan got a possible DNA sample at the crime scene I told him that I ran it and that it turned up nothing, when I did no such thing." It took as much effort to curb her anger as it did to hold back her tears. "Do you have _any_ idea what sort of consequences my actions could have if anyone ever finds out? I'd end up back in prison and it would be absolutely justified!"

Castle didn't say anything and Beckett was glad. Wasn't sure whether she'd end up regretting the things she'd say in response.

"I get that you're you're hurt and you're angry and I'm so sorry that I didn't do enough where Espo was concerned. You're right. I screwed up and I should've found a way to stop him," she said softly, pushing herself off the chair. "And I also get that you need someone to blame for what happened and if you have to blame me, then go ahead, but don't you dare suggest that I wanted this because I can't let go of my crusades. Nothing could be further from the truth."

For the first time since she stepped into the house this evening, Beckett thought she saw something other than anger and frustration in his eyes. But she wasn't sure exactly what it was. And he didn't help her out with a response.

She waited. Gave him a moment to say something and when he didn't she stood up in defeat. "I'm tired," she said quietly. "I'm going to bed."

A part of her still wanted to wrap her arms around him. Remind him, in all the ways she knew how, that she loved him far too much to do any of the things he'd suggested.

But she didn't.

Then there was another part of her that wanted to flee. To grab her duffle bag, jump back into the Ferrari and rev it up all the way to Manhattan, speeding tickets be damned. Then she'd crawl back to the loft and lick her wounds in private, because that was how she coped whenever the world dealt her a lousy hand: alone.

A few years ago, that's exactly what she would have done.

But this was now, and she wasn't that woman anymore, so Beckett swallowed all her hurt and pride and anger and met his eyes one last time.

"Good night, Rick."

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

 _Next morning_

It was her iPhone buzzing on the night table stand that woke her up.

Squinting in the brightness, Beckett blindly reached for it and almost turned it off until she saw it was Lanie.

"Hey," she mumbled sleepily, swiping to accept the call, rubbing her eyes and pushing herself up on the pillow. Beckett stole a glance to the other side of the bed and saw that it was messed up and bare. Castle had already vacated his side.

She'd debated whether or not to slip into the master bed last night after her shower. Whether it wasn't better to stay in a guest bedroom until things settled down between them.

So much of this was new to her; marriage, fights and compromises. Before Castle she'd never really been in a relationship long enough to weather more than a single argument or two.

In the end, she'd decided on this bed. If Castle was still too angry to join her, let him take the guest bedroom. One thing she'd learned recently was that they never solved anything apart. She'd been asleep when he came to bed, but he was here at some point, because she remembered waking up in the middle of the night and instinctively moving towards the warmth of his body. Remembered her arm draping over his back before she drifted off again.

" _Are you still asleep?"_

Beckett was still squinting. "No."

 _"You sound like you just woke up."_

Beckett smirked. "Is that okay with you, Mom?"

" _It's 10am! Since when are you still in bed at 10am?"_

"Are you really calling just to lecture me on sleeping in?"

Beckett heard her laugh on the other end.

 _"No, silly. Are you at the loft?"_

"No. Hamptons. Castle took Martha out here so she could recover in peace. I joined them last night."

 _"Since when does Martha Rodgers want peace and tranquility? Is he sure that won't make her worse?"_

Beckett smiled. "Good point."

 _"Does that mean things are okay with you and Castle again?"_

Her smiled faded as she let her eyes linger on the empty side of the bed. "Getting there."

 _"Have you told him? About the baby?"_

"Not yet."

 _"Girl, what the hell are you waiting for?' Til you start showing and he starts wondering whether you've had too many cheeseburgers?"_

 _'Til we can have a conversation where we're not pissed with each other?_ she thought morbidly. "Lane, I need things to be good with us first. He already stayed with one woman for the sake of a baby, I don't want him to think he needs to do this again. I want him to want us without the guilt of a baby reeling him back in, you know?"

 _"Kate,"_ Lanie's voice dropped an octave. Soft and remorseful. " _What are you saying? Is it that bad that you might split up? Oh, honey."_

Beckett cringed. "I-I hope not. I honestly don't know where we stand right now. Give me a few days to try and work this out. I'm not exactly gonna start showing in the next week. Hold on to sharing the news a little longer, 'kay?"

 _"That is not why I'm bugging you."_

"Sure it is."

 _"You cannot compare yourself to Meredith, Kate. Castle was crazy about you and he married you long before there was any baby in the equation. Don't you forget that. It's a completely different situation."_

"Yes, ma'am."

 _"Oh shut up."_

Kate giggled. Lanie had a way of making her smile and she loved her for it.

 _"You okay otherwise?"_

"Yeah, I'm good."

 _"Sure?"_

"Very sure."

 _"Okay, then. Call me if there's anything you need."_

"I will."

 _"I know you won't but I love you anyway."_

"Lanie-"

 _"Gotta go. Dead bodies are waiting for me."_

"Lovely."

 _"Bye, Kate."_

Beckett stretched and sank back into the pillow for a minute before pushing herself out of the bed.

Lanie was right. It was past ten already and it was time to get her ass out of bed and see if her husband's anger had abated enough for him to stick around while she was under the same roof.

Besides, she was starving.

 _Later_

Castle was on his second cup of coffee when Beckett finally made her way down into the kitchen. She'd put her hair up into a messy bun and wore that soft, flannel pyjama short-and-top combo that he loved to unbutton whenever she gave him the chance. It was ridiculous. One look in her direction after a five-day absence and all his senses suddenly went into overdrive.

This was precisely why he'd left to begin with.

"Morning," she mumbled.

"Hey."

He'd already finished his breakfast but there were still eggs left in the bowl he'd used for his omelette earlier and his first instinct was to start whipping up one for her. It took a concerted effort _not_ to do it. Because he loved cooking for her. Because unlike his first two wives, who ate like birds, Beckett loved to eat. Not because she was indifferent to staying in shape, but because she knew she'd easily work off every calorie at work or at the gym.

But he wouldn't do it. Cooking for her felt like a betrayal to his family right now.

"The young woman who's with Martha, is she the nurse?" Beckett asked, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"Sylvie. She comes in twice a day, once in the morning and again later in the afternoon."

Castle watched as Beckett poured herself some coffee and added a generous amount of milk before sitting down at the dining room table. "How is she recovering?" she asked him.

"Slowly," he admitted, taking a sip of his coffee too. "Ribs will take time to heal and her doctor said she might need some cosmetic surgery on her face. Bastard broke her nose."

Beckett grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me something," he questioned. "How do we know this is over? You resigning won't matter if Espo keeps investigating. If he pursues this, are they gonna come after Alexis next?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "But LokSat threatening any of us when I have zero authority over him anymore makes no sense."

"We have to find out. To make sure."

"Yeah," she stared into space, as if the realization suddenly dawned on her too. "You're right. We do."

"We have to get Espo to stop," he told her. "If I need to tell him the truth, so be it."

"Let me talk to him," she told him, setting down her mug. "Cop to cop."

"Thought you weren't a cop anymore?"

Her eyes darkened. "Thanks for the reminder."

Castle felt a lump in his throat and he wanted to take it back. Even in all his anger and frustration, he still hated hurting her. But this- this thing. It was too big and too important to keep letting his love for her overshadow all his common sense. "Can I trust you to get him to stop?"

That hurt her too. He could see it on her face, maybe even more so than his last flippant remark. And in turn, it made him feel miserable.

"I don't know, Castle. Can you?"

"Kate-" He wanted to apologize. No. More than that. What he really wanted was to hold her and wrap his arms around her. Tell her the truth, that he was only doing this because he was terrified of letting her back into his life. Of what it might mean for Martha and Alexis.

"I'll go back to Manhattan," she told him, and Castle could've sworn that he saw her eyes water. But she blinked it back quickly and her face was suddenly unreadable, reminding him of interrogation-room Beckett. "I can't have this conversation with him over the phone. Too risky."

"Okay," he agreed.

"The other way to make sure is to talk to Smith," she pointed out. Pyjama shorts or not, Beckett was in cop mode now.

"Smith?"

"He's the one who came to us with the threat, makes sense that he's close enough to them to know whether or not we're in the clear."

Good point, he thought. "But how do we find him? With Smith it's always matter of him contacting us."

"I'll reach out to Ryan," Beckett told him. "It's not as though he's a stranger to us anymore. If Ryan doesn't have the means to find him, he can get someone in IT to do it."

"If he does find him," Castle told her. "You're not going to see him alone."

Beckett shrugged. "Fine."

"Okay," Castle exhaled. Finally. They had a plan of action. Maybe there was an end in sight to this after all.

He watched as Beckett got up back up and poured herself a bowl of cereal. Chopped up a banana and spread it on top before filling the bowl with milk and making her way out to the living room.

Of course she wasn't going to cook something for herself. It made him want to whip up smoothies and omelettes for her all over again, because she was so lousy at taking the time to do something good for herself. He'd always been so much better at taking care of Beckett than she was.

"So is that it?" he asked her instead. Reminding himself that he was trying to keep her at arms length. "End of conversation? You take charge and I sit around hoping that you keep me posted?"

"You're welcome to come into the city with me and listen in on my call to Ryan," she said icily. "That way you can make sure that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing to keep your family safe. But right now I'd like to have breakfast without a side order of your accusations, if you don't mind."

"Kate. Wait-" He groaned and watched her walk away. Why couldn't he stop punishing her for this? What the hell was wrong with him?

"I'm sorry," he said it aloud but she was already out of the room.

Tonight, he told himself. He had to stop this tonight when she came back from Manhattan. He couldn't keep tormenting her like this. This wasn't who he was. No matter how much Martha's attack had shaken him.

Her words echoed in his head.

 _"...if you have to blame me, then go ahead, but don't you dare suggest that I wanted this because I can't let go of my crusades. Nothing could be further from the truth."_

Truth was, he did believe her. Deep down he'd never really doubted it. Never doubted her.

Even though he kept telling himself that he did, because how else could he possibly fathom letting her go?


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter XV**

 _12 Precinct, NYC_

All three of them, Ryan, Esposito and Fung, had grabbed their jackets and were about to head out and assist a neighbouring precinct with a high profile homicide when Kevin got the call from Beckett.

Esposito knew it was her when he saw her name on the call display of his partner's cell phone. He watched Ryan as he stepped away from them to take the call and make what seemed to be light-hearted small talk before his expression turned serious.

"I'll see what I can find out when I get back this afternoon."

After he ended the call, Ryan slipped his phone back into his jacket.

"Oh shit," Fung announced when they were only steps from the elevator. "Completely forgot to e-mail the captain the Jimenez report. Gimme a sec?"

Esposito frowned and stuck his hands into his pockets, while Fung raced back to her desk.

"What'd Beckett want?" he asked Ryan, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ryan hesitated for a second and moved in closer, scanning the room to make sure no one was listening in. "Smith. She asked me to find him."

"The guy who kept the files from Montgomery to protect her from Bracken?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Said she needs to contact him in person."

"Weird." Esposito's frown deepened. "You gonna do it?"

Ryan gave him a questioning look. "Of course. It's Beckett."

"Right," Esposito grumbled.

"Look." Esposito figured his tone of voice had touched a nerve. "I have no idea why you were such a dick to her the last two weeks and it's none of my business, but she was our partner for almost a decade. That still means something."

"Excuse me?" Esposito stretched his neck.

"You know you were," Ryan shot back. "You went behind her back when she repeatedly told you to back off the Singh case, then you took her resignation personally, like she doesn't have a right to do whatever the hell she wants with her career, and then you skipped out on her going away party. Tell me that wasn't you being a jerk?"

"What the hell, bro?" Esposito expected brutal honesty from his partner but he didn't expect this. Out of nowhere. Suddenly his own phone rang and he almost did a double take when he saw the name on his call display. Ryan saw it too and smirked.

"Speak of the devil."

"Yo," Esposito answered it on the second ring.

" _Hey, Espo it's me, Beckett."_

"I can see that," his voice was strained, still trying to digest Ryan's accusations.

 _"Do you have ten minutes to meet with me today?"_ No small talk. Typical Beckett.

"Ryan and I just got assigned a new case."

 _"I only need a few minutes. I can meet you after your shift if you're too busy. Just tell me where and when. It's important."_

"Fine." He told her to meet him at by the Union Square subway entrance, about a block from their homicide. Of course he could sneak away for ten minutes, especially since both Fung and Ryan were going to be there too.

* * *

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

"Hey-"

Castle turned his head in the direction of his wife's voice only to see her standing in the doorway of the study.

He'd been sitting at his computer for the last hour and had written all of five sentences. Three of which he'd probably delete before the end of the day.

"Hey," he greeted her back and the word nearly got caught in his throat when he took in the sight of her in jeans, white t-shirt and black leather jacket, her outfit a reminder that the temperature had gone up almost twenty degrees from yesterday. Her hair was loose and looked longer and fuller than he'd remembered it, which was ridiculous and impossible because they'd only been apart for five days.

It was equally ridiculous that someone he knew so well, so intimately, could still take his breath away and make his heart skip a couple of beats.

"Espo says he can meet me in two hours. That means we have to leave for Manhattan, well, now."

He didn't answer. Let himself soak in the sight of her instead. Because he knew he wouldn't come along.

"Castle? You said you wanted to come."

"I better not," he admitted.

"How come?" she questioned, finally stepping into the study.

"I'm not sure I can have this conversation with Espo without strangling him."

"Ah-" Understanding dawned on her beautiful face. Then she shrugged. "All right, if you're sure you trust me to say the right things on my own."

Castle winced. He deserved that. "Kate-"

Beckett stared at him.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "For what I said this morning."

Beckett zipped up her leather jacket and met his gaze with weary eyes. "But not sorry for everything else you've said and done since Martha was attacked."

 _No._

 _Yes._

 _Yes, of course. You have no idea._

"I'll call you after the meeting," was all she said before she turned her back on him and left.

Castle stared at the open door leading into the hallway, knowing he wouldn't be able to write another word today.

* * *

 _Union Square Park, NYC_

"Beckett, why the hell didn't you tell me?" Esposito questioned after she'd reluctantly spelled everything out for him. Everything. LokSat. The blackmail. The threat that Smith had issued. The real reason she resigned and asked him to lay off the Singh case.

They were sitting on a park bench and Beckett squinted in the bright afternoon sun, her fingers toying with the rim of the take-out cup of hot chocolate she'd grabbed after snagging a coveted parking spot two blocks from here.

"Because now you're an accomplice to my crimes and I wanted to avoid that at all costs. Bad enough I compromised my badge. And I'm not telling you now because I want you to feel bad about what happened to Martha."

"I am sorry as hell for that," Esposito told solemnly. One look at his face told her how much he meant it. "If I could take it back, if I'd been less of a bull-headed jack-"

"How the hell could you have known?"

"Doesn't matter. I should've respected your orders."

"Like I'd have done that when my orders made no sense."

"Doesn't-"

"Javi, stop. If anyone's to blame, it's me for going after these guys to begin with. I'm telling you this now because your life's in danger too and you need to know that. These guys will mow down anyone who's in their path. My AG team, Vikram, me, Martha...they'll stop at nothing."

Regret clouded his features. "What about you and Castle? Are you still in danger?"

Beckett took a sip of hot chocolate. "I don't think so. I don't think we ever were, to be honest. Not after their first attempt to kill me failed and not after I did that press conference. Killing us now would be way too obvious and messy for them. But I'm not sure. It's why I need to see Smith. To make sure."

"I guess you didn't tell Ryan that's why you needed to see him."

Beckett lowered the sunglasses she'd used to push her hair back on the way here. It really was a glorious day. More reminiscent of early Fall than early winter. "No. I don't think you should either. What I did in my last few weeks as Captain wasn't just immoral, Jav, it was criminal. Last thing I need is one more person complicit in this mess."

"You think he'll give a damn about that?" Esposito leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, before turning sideways and looking her in the eye. "We were your partners."

"I know and it's exactly why I couldn't tell you. Because I always knew you guys had my back. Never doubted it for a minute." She found her lips curling into a smile. "I love you guys and I've already dragged you into enough of my messes. This one could've jeopardized your entire careers or worse, gotten you killed."

"You could've let that be our decision. We're big boys."

"Ryan has a little girl," she countered. "And another baby on the way. I don't want him to have to make that choice."

"So we back off and let 'em get away with everything?" Esposito shook his head in disgusted disbelief. "With killing the AG team and Vikram and trying to kill you and then framing you for murder? You let these guys take your entire career from you."

"You know, if pursuing this meant we could bring Vikram back I'd do it, Espo. All the threats be damned, but it won't and I want to think he didn't die for us to throw our lives away."

"These guys will keep killing then. Because they know they can get away with it. They'll worm their way into power too."

"They're probably already there," Beckett said, chagrined, as a gust of wind sent a strand of hair across her face. "Vikram and I found links tracing LokSat to the Supreme Court in DC."

"Jesus Christ, Beckett."

"Don't tell me you're shocked that the world's a corrupt place? That would make you the least jaded homicide cop in history."

Esposito mustered a chuckle. "I'm shocked that I'm helping it along."

Beckett shrugged. "I want to believe it's not that simple. We're fighting in our way by biding our time, and by picking and choosing our battles. We can't fight them at all if we're dead or behind bars."

"Can't argue with that."

"I'm not very good at it yet," she admitted with a frown. "Picking my battles. Biding my time and all that. But I'm learning."

"So you want me to stop?"

"Yes. I need you to stop until we've talked to Smith," she told him. "If he says Castle and I are in the clear and that the only one they'll come after if you keep investigating is you, Javi, then that's your choice to make. But until then, you have to stop."

"Okay, boss."

"Look at you, listening to me now that I'm not your boss anymore."

He grinned. "Shut up."

Beckett returned his grin before she was serious again. "Truthfully, I can't see Loksat punishing me and my family for something that's out of our control now that I'm no longer at the 12th. It makes no sense. But what the hell do I know? Smith will know. That's why Castle and I need to talk to him."

"I gotta go." Esposito told her, getting up from the bench after noticing the time on his watch. "I'm supposed to meet Ryan and Fung at the morgue. Ryan will get you the info you need. Probably before the end of the day. Smith's not a cipher anymore and Ryan's good with that IT stuff."

"I know," Beckett replied, getting up as well. "That's why I asked him. Not you."

"Ouch," Esposito bumped his fisted hand against his heart.

Beckett gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder. "You know it."

"Yo, Beckett."

"What?"

"Ryan told me this morning that I was jerk to you before you left. He was right."

"I didn't make things easy for you."

"Doesn't matter. I shoulda known better."

"This mean we're good?"

"Yeah. We're good as long as you promise to be straight with me next time someone threatens you and your family. Always gonna have your back, Beckett." He tapped his badge. "Family first. Then this."

Then he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

When he let go, Beckett gave him a look that let him know she was grateful. She didn't have to say it. She never did with Javi.

Then she watched him walk away, before turning in the opposite direction to where her car was parked. On the way there, Beckett adjusted her sunglasses in the afternoon glare and tossed the empty cup of hot chocolate into a waste bin.

* * *

 _Richard Castle Investigations, NYC_

 _Later_

She'd been on her way to Remy's, where she'd intended to grab a take-out cheeseburger followed by a nap in the loft, when she got a call from a frantic Alexis.

 _"Are you seriously in the city right now? Oh my God, Kate...do you think you could swing by the PI agency and help me find a way to skim through seventy-hours of security footage? I was supposed to get back to this guy yesterday and I'm so behind because I spent five days in the Hamptons...and I really don't want to bug Dad, or have him think I can't handle this on my own-"_

"Alexis, slow down. Tell me again exactly what you need?"

The words 'seventy hours of security footage' made her wince and have flashbacks to her days as a beat cop, but of course she'd said yes and driven straight to the agency instead of Remy's.

And now she'd been here for almost three hours, her eyes starting to strain from the endless reel of grainy images on the computer screen in front of her. The iPhone lying on the desk next to her suddenly vibrated giving her a chance to turn away.

"Beckett," she answered in a clipped tone. Old habits died hard.

She stopped the footage and leaned back in the office chair, grateful for the respite.

"You got him?" Beckett pushed herself forward again and grabbed the pen that was lying on a notebook on top of her husband's desk. "Holy cow, Ryan. You're amazing."

She grinned when he told her there was no need to point out things he already knew and then jotted down the address he gave her.

She dialled Castle's number as soon as she hung up and he answered after the first ring. "Hey, it's me. Ryan got an office address in Brooklyn. I can head there now and wait for him to leave the building, assuming he's there. I can text you the address."

 _"Okay. I'll leave right now and meet you there."_

"I'm at the PI agency with Alexis, shouldn't take me more than thirty minutes to get there. In case I see Smith before you get there, do you want me to let him go and we'll go back tomorrow? Or you want me to confront him?" Beckett wanted to do this on his terms this time. Didn't want to give him any more ammunition for blame in case something went wrong.

Several seconds of silence went by before he responded.

 _"Confront him,"_ he told her. _"We need to know as soon as possible."_

 _"Okay."_

 _"I trust you."_

Beckett bit her lip. _Do you?_ "Okay."

 _"But I'll see you soon. Less than two hours. You did leave the Ferrari here."_

That remark made her smile because it had a trace of the Castle she knew so well, not the angry man she'd come to know the last few days. "All right. See you soon. I'll text you the address."

She pushed her chair back and got up to see Alexis in the next room. One glance at the clock on the wall reminded her that she'd completely forgotten about lunch and was so hungry now, she was starting to feel lightheaded. She'd always been able to skip a meal or two, as well as a night's sleep, and still power through the day, so this was a weird new sensation, this notion of needing food and sleep this badly.

She put a hand on her growling stomach. _Seriously, kid. Hold your horses, will you? For someone the size of an olive, you already have the appetite of an elephant._

That was another weird new habit, she realized. Talking to her stomach. Even though right now it was legitimately talking back.

"Hey, Alexis," she said, poking her head into the office next door. "Something's come up. I need to head out."

"Oh-" Alexis turned her attention away from her computer screen. "No worries. Thanks so much for helping me go through this stuff. "

"Anytime."

"You going back to the Hamptons tonight?" Alexis asked hesitantly.

It was a good question, Beckett thought. Was she? But then she remembered the glass of Merlot she'd promised to pour for Martha.

"Yeah, I'll head back."

Alexis looked relieved. "Good. I'm glad. Give Dad my love."

"Will do."

* * *

 _Brooklyn, NY_

Castle wasn't kidding when he said he'd be here soon, Beckett thought when she saw him crossing the street and making his way towards her, his pace quick and determined.

She hadn't been sitting here for an hour yet, after her thirty-minute drive to this stretch of unremarkable commercial buildings a few blocks from Jamaica Bay.

"Which one is it?" Castle asked her after he sat down, slightly out of breath. He smelled good, wearing that ridiculously expensive cologne that she loved.

Beckett blinked and put a hand over her eyes to avert the sunlight. "The glass door," she pointed out. "Over there. Number 31."

"Do we know he's inside for sure?"

"No."

Castle stared at the building. "Going inside would be a bad idea, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, bad idea," she agreed. "Ryan gave me another call on the way here. He checked out the company and he thinks it could be a front of sorts. It's listed as an import-export company, which means it could be anything. It could be linked to LokSat and Smith could be doing legal work for them."

Castle drew his sunglasses from his shirt pocket but not before he turned to her. "So we wait 'til he leaves the building, lay low until he's far away enough and then pounce on him. Even though we don't know if he's actually in there today?"

"You have a better idea?"

"If we have the company name we can call and find out if he's there."

"Then we'll spook him and the last thing we want is for LokSat to think we're still doing any investigating."

"Then we should be doing this outside his home, not outside his work."

"Yeah, we should," Beckett agreed. "But Ryan couldn't get his home address. Not yet."

"How is it that Ryan got a work address and not a home address?"

"'Cause that's what was used when Smith was admitted to the hospital two years ago."

"Ah-."

It was strange, Beckett thought to sit here and brain storm, to go over tactical decisions they way they used to, as though the last week hadn't happened. "Ryan might get it in a day or two," Beckett suggested. "We can wait if you think it's safer."

"I think-" Castle debated it while searching her face for agreement. "The sooner we talk to him, the safer it is for all of us. But you're right, I don't want LokSat to see this as us poking our noses in their business again."

"We're sitting on a bench across from the building, across from a business that might have loose ties to these guys," Beckett reminded him. "That's all. If Smith does come out we carefully follow him to the parking lot two blocks from here. That's where we confront him."

"Ryan's sure that's where the employees park their cars? There isn't some underground garage we don't know of?"

"No," Beckett assured him. "Ryan's thorough. You know that."

"You armed?"

Beckett nodded.

"Okay," Castle exhaled and she could see the tension around his eyes relax, before he examined her more closely. "How long have you been here?"

"I came straight from the PI office," she told him. "So- maybe an hour?"

"Aren't you freezing?"

"Not really." She wasn't dressed for early December but then it wasn't exactly early December weather today. The bright sunshine made the unseasonably warm weather feel even warmer. "But I am starving," she admitted. She'd decided not to grab anything on the way here because she didn't want to risk missing Smith in case he left work early. "I saw a corner store a block from here. You fine if I run over there and grab something?"

"Sure."

Beckett pushed herself off the bench, and maybe she did too fast or maybe she really did wait too long too eat since her bowl of cereal this morning, or maybe it was something else altogether, but her vision suddenly swam and she felt her knees give in and buckle, completely unable to keep her upright.

 _"Kate!"_

She would've hit the ground if it weren't for Castle grabbing onto her leather jacket and hooking his arms under hers with lightning speed. He pulled her back up and let her lean into him hard, face squished into his chest. She felt him snake an arm around her waist before he gently lowered her back down to the bench.

"Put your head down," he told her, his voice sounding distant and far away. Long hair fell down over her and Castle's fingers pulled some of it away so he could see her face.

She took a deep breath and saw her vision return to normal. Castle's hand on her thigh went from blurry to clear and after a bit of blinking she saw five distinct fingers instead of one big blob.

"Kate-" His other hand was still in her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear, until it rested at the back of her neck. "What happened?"

"I- " She took another deep breath and tested her fingers to make sure she could feel her limbs, because she definitely didn't feel much of her legs when she tried to stand up a minute ago. "I don't know. I think I got up too fast."

Her hands were fine and she moved her toes inside her shoes and could feel them too. She was still dizzy, but that was fading too.

"You got up too fast?" Castle questioned her and when she finally moved her head back up to look at him she was taken aback how deeply he'd furrowed his brows, full of fear and concern.

"Yeah-" She pressed her eyes shut and kept breathing. Deep steady breaths. "I haven't eaten since breakfast, maybe that's why-"

His hand was still on the back of her neck. "Since when do those things make you faint?"

"Faint? What?" She opened her eyes relieved to see that her vision was back to normal. "I didn't faint," she told him. "Just got dizzy for a second."

"And now?"

"Now I'm okay."

"Does your head hurt?" His thumb had inched up along her scalp and she wanted to lean into him. She'd missed his touch so much. The way his hands knew every inch of her body. Maybe if he thought she really did feel awful then he wouldn't mind if she-

Beckett swallowed and pushed the appalling thought from her mind. She did not want him to care for her out concern. Even if the thought entered her mind in a moment of weakness.

 _No way. Not that desperate yet._

Beckett pushed herself away from him, denying the urges of her body that wanted the exact opposite.

"Kate- tell me, does your head hurt?" he repeated. He said it with the kind of gentle patience that he used to have with her. Before he blamed her for Martha's attack.

"No."

He didn't look convinced. "You should lie down."

"What?" Beckett looked at him. "Here? On the bench?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, no. I'm not lying down on this bench."

"Kate, you're scaring me."

"I'm fine, Castle," she insisted. "I got up too fast and I'm- starving. Will you grab me some food from the corner store?" It suddenly occurred to her then that they'd been so distracted these past couple of minutes that Smith could've walked right past them and they would've missed it. Made her want to kick herself.

"I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Oh for god's sake. Fine. I'll go," she snapped and got back up, slowly and steadily this time, testing her legs at first until she felt Castle's fingers tug at her wrist.

"Kate," he sounded exasperated now. "Stay put, would you? I'll get it. Tell me what you want."

She didn't care as long as it was edible. "Crackers? Fruit? Granola bar? Something like that."

"Fine." He made her sit back down and she saw his eyes lingering on her for a few seconds, as if debating whether to leave her there.

Now that the world wasn't spinning around her anymore, Kate turned her attention back to the building that was the object of their stakeout, as soon as he was gone.

Castle came back quickly, carrying a bulging grocery bag in his hand.

"You still okay?" he asked before he sat back down.

Beckett observed the uncertainty on his handsome face. Not sure what to make of it all. "Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, eyes on the grocery bag that he set down next to her. "How much food did you get?"

"Have a look."

She peaked inside it and spotted a couple of chocolate bars, a bag of chips, a granola bar, a muffin inside a plastic wrap, a bottle of water, orange juice, chocolate milk, a banana, an apple, an orange . "Castle?" She was slack-jawed. "Are you planning on having a picnic?"

"Wasn't sure what you wanted. So I got...a bit of everything."

She reached into the bag and grabbed the banana and the chocolate milk.

"That was for me," he quipped as soon as she plunged a straw into the milk container.

"Oh, sorry," Beckett handed it back to him but Castle held up his palm.

"I'm kidding," he told her and Beckett thought she saw a smile on his lips for the first time in days. "It's yours. All of it."

"Castle-"

"Eat," he insisted. "I'll keep an eye out for Smith."

She did. The banana, the muffin and half the bag of chips and still Smith was nowhere in sight. They sat there another hour until they decided to call it quits and try again tomorrow, hoping by then they'd have a home address.

Castle rubbed his hands together. "I'm frozen."

"Me too," Beckett admitted. It got cold fast after the sun went down, an instant reminder that it really was December, not October, even if it had felt like it during the day.

She saw him thinking, his face etched in the kind of concentration he used to reserve exclusively for staring at her murder boards.

"What are we gonna do with the Ferrari?" he asked her out of the blue.

"What do you mean? You'll drive it back to the Hamptons. I'll take my car."

Castle frowned. "Don't want you to drive after what happened."

"What?" Beckett didn't understand. "Because I got dizzy?"

"Because you fainted!"

"Castle, I'm fine," she repeated. It wasn't a phony reassurance. It was the truth. "I'll pull over if that changes. I'm not that reckless especially now-" She stopped herself.

Castle stared at her. "Especially now?"

Beckett wondered whether she'd already turned six shades of red, in spite of the cold. She wanted to grab his jacket, stand up on her toes, yank him close and then tell him everything right on the heels of a long, messy kiss. _We made a baby, Rick._

"Especially now," she exhaled. _Not here. Not now._ "After everything that's happened."

"We can leave it here," he argued. "Then we'll both take your car back."

"Leave the Ferrari parked here? In an open lot in Brooklyn? _Are you crazy_?"

"It's...a car."

"A three-hundred thousand dollar car," she corrected him.

"Okay, fine, we'll both drive to the loft," he told her. Annoyed. Beckett couldn't decide whether it was because he didn't want to deal with their car situation or because she wasn't meeting him halfway. "Park the Ferrari there and then we can head out together from there."

Beckett closed her eyes when they stopped at a traffic light. Tired. The parking lot where they'd both parked was only one more block away. "Look," she turned to him. "I don't have to go to the Hamptons with you. I- I can stay at the loft."

He was staring straight ahead at the traffic light. Not at her. "Didn't you promise my mother a half glass of Merlot with dinner tonight?"

"I'm sure you can pour it for her too."

"She likes having you there. It makes her happy."

"What about you, Rick?" Beckett stopped dead in her tracks. "Does it make you happy?"

He finally turned to her and when he did, she couldn't read him at all. "Look, I'm trying to do everything I can for my mother right now. To do whatever it takes to help her overcome this thing. It's all I can think about, you can understand that, can't you?"

"Yeah-" The light turned green and she started walking again, half a step ahead of him, because she couldn't bear looking at him anymore. "Sure."

"Kate-" She felt his hand on her arm. "Slow down."

She suddenly didn't want to do this. Didn't want to spend two hours in a car with him, knowing he didn't want her there.

"Kate," his grip on her tightened and she was forced to slow down. Either wrangle herself out of his grip. "Take the Ferrari to the loft, park it there and then come to the Hamptons with me. _Please?"_

"Okay," she mumbled under her breath, grateful for the din of traffic all around them.

She'd do it, of course she'd do it, even though she no longer wanted to.

* * *

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

 _Later_

It was nearly midnight by the time he slipped underneath the covers, his mind still racing, thinking back to the last few hours.

He'd been right about it being good for Martha that Kate was here. Aside from the glass of wine she'd blackmailed her into over dinner, it was the company that his mother appreciated the most, judging from the way her bruised face lit up during their late night meal and conversation. Kate's did too and he couldn't help letting his eyes linger on her when she wasn't watching. They were so different, but so good for each other, Martha and Kate.

Kate hadn't said much before they sat for a dinner of leftovers, mostly because she dozed off on the way out of Manhattan. She'd lowered the seat in the passenger's side and told him she was going to close her eyes for a few minutes.

At first he thought it was her way of avoiding him and he didn't blame her.

 _"What about you, Rick? Does it make you happy?"_

Of course it did.

But he couldn't bring himself to let her know how much he wanted her back under the same roof. Not until he could make sure that having her there wasn't going to jeopardize his mother and daughter. Because until then it still made him feel guilty as hell for wanting it at all.

It wasn't until they were an hour into the drive and he'd seen her head loll towards him that he realized she really was fast asleep. Wasn't just avoiding him.

Another sudden, crippling thought had struck him then and had given him goose bumps, right then and there, while sandwiched between two tractor trailers on the freeway.

The realization that this wasn't normal.

Beckett. Being this tired, all the time. Nearly collapsing because she got up too fast. The constant headaches. The fact that she was fast asleep now, even though she'd napped for over an hour in the car.

This wasn't her. None of it was.

For weeks he'd chalked it off to the hell she'd gone through at Rikers. Had made her vitamin-laden smoothies and hearty meals to get her back on her feet, and yet none of it had helped even though this was Beckett they were talking about, the most resilient person he'd ever met. There was no way that over a month later, she'd still be reeling from the physical effects of five weeks at Rikers. No way.

Not if she was healthy.

Now lying awake in bed, in the early morning hours, his mind went back to the revelation he had on the freeway, adding a whole slew of morbid thoughts to it.

The bloody fights at Rikers. The litter strewn alley where Leon had found her. The near overdose. What if the needle...what if it was dirty? What were the chances it wasn't? After all they tried to kill her.

Hepatitis. HIV. Those were the kind of things you got from dirty needles. The kind of illnesses that mimicked a hundred others and zapped away all your energy.

Castle put a hand over his mouth.

He thought he was going to be sick. Turned on the bedside lamp and swung his legs over the bed, about to make a run for the bathroom when he clenched his gut and fought back the nausea.

Made his way back under the covers and inched towards his wife, his hand reaching out to rest on her back, because he selfishly needed to touch her. Even if he'd wake her in the process, which he did.

Kate turned around with a groan. "Rick?"

Her eyes squinted in the brightness of the light coming from the bedside table lamp. "Kate."

"Rick? You okay?"

Had they really fallen so far, that she thought something was wrong when he reached out to touch her at night?

His fingers found their way into her hair and he brushed messy strands of it from her sleep drunk face. "I'm okay, but what about you?"

"Me?" Annoyed, sleepy bewilderment raised her brows. "I'm sleeping. _Was_ sleeping."

"Sorry."

"Castle, what's goin' on?"

"I don't know."

"Oh God," he heard groan and bury her head in her pillow. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

"Kate-"

He saw her lips curl into a smile before she drifted back off. But not before she inched closer to him, her head halfway off the pillow and burrowing into his chest. "S'a good one though. Missed you so much, babe. You have no-" The rest of it wasn't audible. But it didn't need to be.

The guilt still swirled in his gut. That maybe this was wrong and unfair for his family.

 _Except you're my family too and I wilfully chose to forget that this week. We made a pact last year. For better or worse, but as soon as the shit hit the fan, I bolted and I'm so damn sorry, Kate. I made you think that I doubted you when you never gave me any reason._

Castle didn't care anymore. If having her in his life and in his arms was wrong, then he'd bear the burden. Gladly.

He put his hand on her shoulder and rested it there.

He was done being afraid.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** Hitting the road tomorrow so putting this up a day early. Happy Thanksgiving weekend to any fellow Canucks reading this. :)

* * *

 **XXVI**

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

 _Next day_

She was gone when he woke up the next morning and for a second Castle panicked, until he saw a folded up note on the bedside table with her familiar handwriting on it.

 _Couldn't sleep anymore, so I thought I'd catch the sunrise on the beach before the storm hits. Be back for breakfast. -K_

Castle tossed off the comforter and checked the time on the alarm clock. It was almost 7am and the sun was nearly out, so she must've left a while ago.

He'd go and find her, he decided, propelled by an overwhelming need to make this right again. To remind her how much he loved her and that they were in this together. That whatever health issue she was facing he'd face it with her.

Castle stepped out into the hallway only to see his mother taking tentative steps down the corridor. "Mother-" he started. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Walking," she told him. "Before my legs forget how to do it."

"Are sure you're-"

"Yes," she waved her hands into the air to cut him off. "I'm sure I can walk. I didn't break my legs."

"All right, all right," he conceded. "Can I get you anything before Sylvie arrives?"

"You can get out of my way."

Castle chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

"Richard," his mother's bruised face cocked towards him. "I think I will join you for breakfast downstairs today."

"That'd be nice," he told her. "I'll make whatever you want to celebrate the occasion. Tell me something else, did you see Kate this morning?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did. She was already dressed when I got up. That girl is such an early bird. Think of how many more novels you could have write if you got up at the same time."

"You really are feeling better, aren't you?"

"Didn't I tell you to get out of my way?"

Castle ran a hand through his tussled hair. "Don't let me interrupt your morning jog."

The unexpected encounter made a new pool of guilt swirl around in his gut. Made him wonder how it was possible that his mother could handle this attack with such grace and determination while in turn it had made him fearful, unkind and irrational.

 _No more,_ he told himself after he made his way to the bathroom and stared at his unshaven self in the mirror, debating whether to shower or just toss on some clothes and rush outside.

He needed to find his wife. Find out what was wrong with her and make this right.

He decided to shower and shave, because he figured it was time that Kate got her husband back.

The one who gave a damn.

* * *

 _Later_

He was nearly out the door when his cell phone buzzed inside the pocket of his shirt. Castle pulled it out and saw Lanie's name on the display before he swiped it to accept the call.

"Lanie-"

" _Castle, I've been trying to reach Kate. Is she with you?"_

"Not right now, no."

 _"She's back in the city?"_

"No, she is out here with me and Martha in the Hamptons."

 _"But she's also not with you? You're making no sense."_ He could hear the annoyance in her voice.

"She- she went out this morning. For a walk. I don't know where she is right now. But if she went for a walk along the beach - sometimes the reception's spotty out here." Why was it that his explanation sounded hollow even to his own ears? Why was he suddenly filled with dread? What if-?

 _"Since when does she leave and not tell you where she's going?"_

Castle wanted to groan. He did not want to have this conversation right now. "Look- is there a message I can pass on to her?"

 _"I don't know, Writer Boy. That would mean you'd have to talk to her and I'm not so sure you're doing that at the moment."_

Castle bit his tongue. "If you want to leave a message, then let me know, that's all I have to say."

 _"Is it?"_

Now it was a full-on interrogation. He'd sat in on enough of them to know. "Lanie-"

 _"I don't know what the hell is going on with you two, but you_ do _know that girl is crazy about you, right? She'd bail your ass out of jail and I'm gonna take a wild guess that you can't say that about those other two women you married before her."_

Castle swallowed. "Lanie- is there a poi-"

 _"I'm not done,"_ she cut him off. _"Like I said I don't know what the hell's going on with you two, but I need to get this off my chest before I'm gonna burst. I'm sorry as hell for what happened to your mother, Castle, but I did not appreciate the way you treated my best friend at the hospital."_

Castle didn't say anything. Wasn't sure she was quite done yet.

 _"Do you know that she spent the entire night sleeping in the waiting room, hoping you'd let her into the room where Martha was?"_

"No," he whispered, certain it wasn't loud enough for her to hear.

 _"And what the hell is she doing on a beach walk anyway? Haven't you seen the weather forecast?"_

"What?"

 _"The storm warning? As if that girl needs to get caught in a blizzard in her cond-"_ Lanie's word disappeared over the phone, as though she'd suddenly muzzled herself.

But Castle wouldn't let that one go. "What do you mean? In her _what_?"

There was a moment of hesitation and that further set off his alarms. _"You know how she gets-"_ Lanie tried to backtrack. _"When she's upset she does reckless things."_

"What makes you say she's upset?" Castle had since left the driveway and started the walk down to the water. This conversation had held him up long enough already, even more so now that his sense of urgency in finding her had multiplied ten-fold.

 _"If she's running off somewhere without telling you, it's safe to say she's upset."_

"She's not running off. She went for a walk! And that's not what you meant," Castle told her, breathless in his quickening pace. "You were gonna say in her condition. What did you mean by that?"

 _"I didn't mean anything."_

"She is sick, isn't she?"

More silence from the other end.

"Lanie, tell me- if something's wrong with her I need to know."

 _"I'll tell you what Castle, you need to have this conversation with her, not with me."_

"Lanie!"

 _"Tell her to call me, would you? I gotta go."_

"Oh no you don't!" Castle hissed into the phone but it was too late. She'd already ended the call.

 _Damn it._

He took a narrow path along a grassy ravine down towards the water and saw the darkening clouds in the distance, behind him. It was coming from the East, from the Atlantic and it would probably land here in less than an hour.

He really, _really_ needed to find her.

* * *

 _Later_

Beckett spotted him from the corner of her eye.

Saw him approach her at a pace that was faster than the one he usually moved at and wasn't surprised to see that he was out of breath when he sat down next to her. Not if he'd come all the way from the house at that pace.

"Hey-" she greeted him.

"Hey," he greeted her in return, letting his blue eyes linger on her longer than they had in a long time. Looking the way he used-

Beckett turned away, a swirl of emotions confusing her already. He'd been cool and civil to her during dinner with Martha last night. Had stayed up to write (or do whatever) in his study while she went to bed alone.

And then she'd woken up to find him spooning her, his familiar limbs entwined with hers and it made her wonder whether he'd done it by accident, in a dream, or out of force of habit, because he was always holding on to some part of her when they slept. Or at least he used to.

It left her so confused and angry that she'd slipped out from underneath his embrace and decided to go out and get air. Lots of it. Not even realizing how far from the house she'd walked until her legs gave in and made her sit down while her stomach let her know that it could really go for a giant waffle with maple syrup on top.

Beckett stared out at the endless blue expanse ahead of her, trying not to let his mere presence get to her.

"You were gone when I woke up," Castle told her.

Beckett didn't look at him. Was he expecting an apology because she worried him? _Was_ he worried? She couldn't tell anymore. How sad was it that she couldn't tell anymore?

"I left you a note."

"I know. I saw."

Beckett exhaled. Turned away from him again.

"What are you doing out here alone?" She heard him ask.

"Thinking."

"About?"

"A lot of things." She pushed her hands deep into the cold sand and let her eyes wander back to his. Endlessly blue, like the water in front of them. "It's gonna be Christmas in three weeks."

"I know-"

"I was thinking - are you going to spend it here?"

Beckett pulled up her knees, leaving a trail behind in the sand. It was getting colder out. The darkening skies now blocked all the post-dawn sunlight that had warmed her skin earlier.

One of his hands was on her knees and Beckett eyed him in confusion.

"Where do you want to spend it?" he asked softly. Both his touch and his voice were gentle. Loving. The way he looked at her it was almost as though-

It threw her for such a loop that a fresh batch of tears pooled in her eyes and she pushed herself back in the sand, quickly enough that his hand slipped off her knee. Then she got up and distanced herself from him with a couple of steps. "Castle-" She gave him an angry look, hating how he could unspool her with such ease these days. "What are you asking me that for? I-look, don't do this, Rick. Don't play games with me."

"Games?"

"You-" She took another two steps back and suddenly heard a roar of thunder in the distance. "You blame me for what happened to Martha, you shut me out of your life the instant it happened and you wouldn't even let me see her at the hospital. The last two days we act like strangers around each other. You tell me you only want me around because it's good for your mother. I feel like we don't stand a chance anymore...and this morning, I wake up and you're wrapped around me like you- like you used to be and now you're suggesting we're going to spend Christmas together, like one big happy family? Honestly, I don't know what the hell to think anymore!" She was crying again and didn't care. Let him call her a crybaby.

An hour's walk to clear her head and two minutes in his presence he'd shaken off all her sunrise calm and thrown her emotions into all sorts of turmoil.

She couldn't do this anymore. It probably wasn't good for the baby and it definitely wasn't good for her.

"Beckett-" Castle was on his feet again too and looking at her with the kind of tenderness he'd showered on her after she got out of Rikers. "I'm sorry. I've been a jerk. An unreasonable, unforgivable jerk and sorry's not enough...but let me start with that. Please. Let me make it right."

Beckett stared at him in disbelief.

 _I'm sorry._

The words rang in her ears and she felt as though a monumental weight slid off her shoulders. She hadn't even realized how badly she needed to hear those words until he said them.

It made her knees weak and forced her to sit back down on the sand.

"Kate-" He was back on his knees too, next to her. Close enough to touch. "Let me hold you, love."

 _Could he hold her?_

She'd craved his touch so badly this week, she'd started to feel like an addict going through withdrawal.

"Don't-" But it was a pathetic protest because of course she didn't resist when he put his arms around her. Couldn't stop herself when her head instinctively gravitated towards the comfort of his chest and she stopped trying to fight it when his fingers made their way into her hair.

He held her tight, and aside from a single dusting of a kiss onto the top of her head, he didn't do anything else, except let her cry.

When she was done and slowly pulled away, he wiped off a lone tear with the pad of his thumb and then handed her a tissue that he'd pulled from a pocket.

"Okay?"

Beckett nodded. But it wasn't true. She wasn't okay. She was an exhausted blubbering mess and she needed answers.

"Rick," her fingers latched onto his jacket and gave it a not-so-gentle tug. "You say you're sorry, but why? What changed? If something else happens...is everything gonna change again?"

"No way." His hands made their way over hers, warming them as she held on to the fabric. "When Martha got attacked," he tried to explain. "All I could think about was that I should've been able to stop it. That maybe if I'd let you go after LokSat on your own this wouldn't have happened- that maybe I'm the one who brought this on by loving you at the expense of my family- and the only way I could stop doing that was by convincing myself to let you go. And the only way I could do that was to tell myself you did this on purpose. I wanted to be blame you and be angry with you."

It was his eyes that were watering now. Made her want to comfort him for a change because she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him cry.

"Castle-" She let go of the fabric she'd bunched in her fingers and slid her hands down his body. Towards his hips and pulled him close. "I am sorry for this whole mess..."

His index finger was on her lips. "Let's stop apologizing. Both of us. Maybe going after LokSat was a lousy idea but after that- you did everything I asked. I asked you to come home and you did. I asked you to give up your career and obstruct an investigation and you did. And then when Mother was attacked, I still lost it. None of it was fair or kind or rational and worst of all I made you feel like you weren't part of this family and-" Again he pulled her closer. "I'm so sorry for that. Because nothing could be further from the truth. You're my whole world, Kate."

"It's not wrong," she told him, leaning her head against his chest. "To say that I brought this mess into your life. Bracken, LokSat- all of it. You _should_ have let me go after them alone-"

"No," he hissed so fiercely that it gave her goose bumps. "I'm the one who crashed into your world, not the other way around. I jump started the investigation into your mother's death. I fell in love with you because you who won't back down no matter how many walls and obstacles you come up against."

"It's different," she said quietly. "When it's your family, your daughter and mother that are being threatened. I get it."

"Yeah," he agreed this time. "But keeping them safe isn't your responsibility. It's mine."

"Ours," she corrected him. "If you mean it about me being part of this family, then it's ours."

"All right," he granted. "Ours. Meaning I need to start doing my part too. Not by wasting money on useless bodyguards."

"How?"

He'd pushed himself off the sand and held out his hand to help her up.

Ice cold drops of rain were coming down around them and Beckett had barely noticed that the skies and the world around them were ominously dark now.

"Shit," she mumbled out loud. This was going to come down hard and fast.

"Come on," he'd grabbed her hand. "We won't make it back to the main road in time but see the boat house down there?" He pointed to what looked like a shack near the beach. "We can grab cover there until the worst passes by."

Beckett nodded and they both took off for it in a sprint as the rain came down in full force.

They made it underneath the wooden awning before getting completely soaked in a combination of rain and hail that pounded onto the roof so loudly they could barely hear each other.

"You okay?" she asked him a second time when he sank down against the wall of the boathouse, out of breath.

"Yeah," he husked. "Time to get back into shape."

A gust of wind howled across the structure and shook the entire thing.

"Jesus," Beckett mumbled as she slid down against the wall next to him. "The forecast did say storm, not hurricane, right?"

"Quite certain that's what they said," Castle agreed. "Glad we're not on the Atlantic side."

"Me too." It would be ten times worse on the other side of the island.

He snaked his arm behind her back and pulled her close. Shivering when she slid a hand underneath his jacket to warm it up. "You're so cold," he told her, draping a part of his jacket over her shoulder, even though she was wearing one too.

"Cut that out," she told him, snuggling closer to him so as to share her body heat. "You'll freeze if you do that."

"Ice rain can't be good considering-"

"Considering?" Beckett looked up at him, her lips brushing the stubble on his chin. They hadn't really talked or resolved all that much. Part of her wanted to cling to her anger, but she was just as terrible at it as he was. Her need to touch him right now outweighed everything else. "Considering what?"

The storm was in full force, raging around their fragile shelter and even though they were covered by the roof, drops of icy rain dusted them here and there. They fell through the cracks and got blown in sideways by howling gusts of wind.

His handsome face was sombre. "I just-I talked to Lanie this morning."

Beckett's eyes widened. _Oh no, no, no. Not like this._

She winced at the thought of him finding out like that after wanting to be the one to tell him for days. "Oh babe, I'm sorry. I wanted-" She was at a loss of words. She should have told him sooner, no matter how much they were fighting, she should-

 _Lanie, I'm going to kill you._

"I wanted to be the one to tell you."

"So it's true then." He looked like someone had punched him in the gut. "But Kate, we'll deal with it. Together."

"Deal with it?" Beckett eyed him in shock. _"Deal with it?"_

Maybe this wasn't how she'd wanted him to find out but never in a million years did she expect this reaction. How could she have been so wrong about everything?

"I thought-" she could barely get out the words, suddenly thankful for the wrath of the storm that surrounded them. "I thought you wanted this?"

She was met with a look of disbelief. " _What?_ Why would I want you to be sick?"

Kate didn't understand. "Sick?"

She turned herself around and pushed her palms into the ground, before she flung one of her legs over both of his, so that she was sitting on his thighs, her hands pressed against his chest. "Whoa, whoa...wait a minute, _what_ exactly did Lanie tell you?"

"Tell me?" Castle had his hands on her arms again, steadying her. "She didn't say-she wouldn't say exactly what was wrong but I'm not blind, I can see that something's not right, so I assumed..."

"You assumed what?" She'd gone from perplexed to mildly amused. Genuinely curious to find out what to his overactive imagination had conjured up now.

"Since the overdose, you're tired all the time, you've never had headaches this often-"

"So?" Her lips curled into a smile. "You what? Made the obvious assumption that I have a brain tumour?"

"I-" He was flustered. "No, no that."

"What then? Zika? Ebola?"

Castle rolled his eyes but was suddenly serious again as a clap of thunder roared above them. "So you're not sick?"

"No, I'm not sick."

"Oh thank God-" His relief was so obvious, so palpable that it made her want to give him another hug.

"Babe, you have to stop doing this."

"Thinking the worst?"

"No. You never think the worst...but you do jump to conclusions. All the time. You assume I don't love you because of something I say in an interrogation room. You assume I want to keep investigating because I can't get Espo to stop. We're partners now, Castle. I promise to stop running away and trying to solve things on my own but in return you have to come to me if I'm doing something you don't understand. From now on we talk before you assume, okay?"

"I can try to do that. Deal. So it is just stress then."

"There you go, making assumptions again. Less than three seconds later."

"Kate-" Confusion furrowed his brows. "What are you saying? You're not sick but there is something wrong?" He pushed up his knees, making her slide into him. "Talk to me."

"That's right. I'm not sick and there's nothing wrong but I am pregnant."

His jaw dropped. " _Pregnant_?"

"Yes. Pregnant."

"As in you're- _we're_ having a baby pregnant?"

"Yeah, that kind." She nodded slowly. "Are there other kinds?"

"Oh Kate-"

His arms were around her before she could say anything else, but not before she caught the pure joy on his face and it threatened to burst her whole heart. It didn't take long before his lips were on hers, soft and tender and reverent. His hands cupped her face and she felt a tear against her cheek that didn't belong to her. Kate kissed it away.

"Looks who's a crybaby now."

"We're really having a baby?"

"We are. Having a baby."

"Oh Kate-" He kept saying it, flustered and speechless and so very unlike him.

"You're okay with it then?"

"Okay?" He looked at her incredulously. "I love you. So much."

"I know," she told him. Because it was true. Even when he was furious with her. The grocery bag full of snacks he'd brought her on their stakeout was ample proof.

She kissed him back and it wasn't so tender anymore. If it wasn't cold and storming outside and they weren't hiding out in someone else's boat house to weather it all, she'd start undressing him right now.

She was lying on the floor before she noticed, Castle's leg sliding over hers and his warm hand snaking underneath her wool sweater, lingering on her still flat belly. Awe and wonder lit up his face. "We're having a baby. A little you."

"Or a little you."

"You make me so stupidly happy. How could I have ever imagined not having you in my life?"

"Don't imagine it again, okay?"

"I won't," he said firmly. "Tell me how- how far along are you?"

"Almost ten weeks."

"Ten weeks?"

"I know, it's crazy."

"So when you were at Rikers, you were already-" The words got caught in his throat, painfully so.

"Babe, it's okay. I'm okay and the baby's okay. Clean bill of health from the doc this week." She turned sideway and inched closer to him, squeezing his arm to let him know it really was okay. "It had to have happened when we made love after I came back to the loft. I'd been off the pill for a few days and- it's the only thing that makes sense given the timing."

The look he gave her told her it wasn't entirely okay but he didn't dwell on it. "How long have you known?"

"Not long. I found out the night your mother was attacked. Lanie had her suspicions and she made me take a pregnancy test, even though I thought she was crazy for even suggesting it."

"Oh god, that night of all nights."

"Shhh-" Kate's face was close enough for their noses to touch. "We said no more apologizing. Let's just- make our way back to each other. Can we do that?"

"I want that too."

The rain pounded onto the wooden roof above them, while he pulled her a little closer with every gust of wind, until they were a tangle of entwined limbs lying on the floor of the boathouse.

"I have a million things I want to ask you." An icy drop of rain fell on his lashes, sitting there for a second before he batted them and shook it off. "Have you been sick at all?"

"You mean puking and all that?"

"Yeah- I remember Meredith when she was carrying Alexis, she was throwing up all the time. She kept saying pregnancy was the best diet ever until you were five months in."

Kate chuckled. "No. No puking. But I'm hungry all the time. I'm sure that at this rate, I'll be showing way before five months."

Castle beamed. "I'll help you along. Make it my mission to feed you every day."

"I don't doubt it."

"So the headaches, the tiredness, that's the pregnancy, nothing else?"

"Yes."

"When you almost passed out yesterday, has that happened before?"

"No, and, honestly I think it only happened because I didn't eat all day."

"You should still go see a doctor. Make sure-"

"Castle," she moved her face far away enough from his to put her index finger on his lips. "Don't drive me crazy already? Okay?"

He exhaled and she saw him make an effort to rein in the over-protectiveness that she knew was headed her way over the next seven months.

"All, right. I'll try. But no more skipping meals then. I'll make sure of it."

"Deal."

"Any other symptoms?"

"Sometimes certain smells make me nauseous, but nothing more than that. I have weird craving too."

"Like what?" His face lit up, wanting to know everything.

"Greek food mostly. Those honey-soaked pastries, Feta cheese, oli-"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Did you say olives?"

"No. I didn't."

"You did. You were going to say olives." He was giddy happy now. "Our little Olive is making you crave olives."

"Still not naming her Olive. Especially not if it's a boy."

"Let's have this discussion some other time."

"Not up for discussion, babe."

Castle grinned. "What else?"

"I want to make out. All the time. It's madness."

He kissed her enthusiastically. "That's not the pregnancy. That's me."

Beckett laughed. His happiness was infectious. "Whatever."

"So what's the plan here, sweetheart? We wait out the storm here?"

"Got a better idea?"

Nothing would convince her to head outside in this torrential downpour. No matter how much the flimsy boathouse was shaking during this assault from Mother Nature. Getting back to the main road once the rain let up, along the newly muddied paths, would be challenging enough.

"Making out, huh?" His hand roamed away from her belly, getting reacquainted with every inch of bare skin underneath her sweater. Each caress was giving her goose bumps and now he was unhooking her bra with well-practised expertise, setting all her senses on fire. The fact that he'd begun to massage her breasts was almost overkill. It was heavenly bliss and cruel torture all at once, because it made her want so much more. Starting with wanting to tear off her sweater and give his lips access to the very nipple he was toying with. Even though that alone was all it took to flood her belly with warmth.

"Oh God, Castle...don't you dare stop."

"Love you." He'd somehow unbuttoned her jeans as well and had curved his body against her while his free hand trailed down her belly and then lower still, until his index finger was slick with her arousal.

"Rick-" She'd arched her head back, into the crook of his neck. God, she needed this, _him_ , so badly. Felt so perfect. He kissed her jaw line when a whimper of pleasure escaped her throat.

"Love you."

He kept saying it until it was a mantra. His voice a soothing calm in the storm, while his electric fingers were about to make her lose control.

There were still clouds hanging over them, issues and threats they needed to deal with. Beckett had a feeling they'd be weathering a few more storms after this one.

 _Love you. Love you. Love you._

But now she was certain that they'd make it. And that they'd have a hell of a good time finding their way back to each other.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N** : Sorry for the delayed posting! My intentions to keep this on a regular posting schedule don't always pan out. Thanks for your patience. :)

* * *

 **Chapter XXVII**

 _Kings Thai Boxing Gym, NYC_

 _Five months later_

Castle threw his opponent over his back in one swift move and then extended his hand to help him back up.

A month ago he'd have been the one lying flat on his back on the mat, but he was getting so much better at this.

"That was impressive," his instructor told him and for the first time since he'd started these classes he saw that the lean Asian man was perspiring. Usually Castle was the only one covered in a sheen of sweat after their sparring sessions.

Sure his knees were a little dodgy and his back was twenty years too old for this, but he was smart and a quick learner, and what he'd initially lacked in speed he'd made up for in strength and determination.

"That was all kinds of hot," a familiar voice announced.

Castle turned around and saw his wife leaning against the wall of the gym, not far from the mat where he'd been sparring for the last twenty minutes.

 _Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,_ he thought, eyeing her with a sweaty grin. She was wearing dark leggings and a body-hugging wool dress that let the whole world know she was carrying his child. To her surprise, she'd been able to hide the pregnancy well into the fifth month, but no more.

She threatened to kill him whenever he so much as mentioned the word, yet it was true. She really was _glowing_. And hot. Crazy, indescribably hot.

He stepped towards her and planted a kiss on her cheek, while resting a hand on her belly. Knowing it would be gone in just a couple of months, he could never touch it enough. Every movement underneath it delighted him to no end and he was endlessly fascinated by the life growing inside of her. His little Olive, letting him know she was there, kicking and stretching and eager to meet them.

Granted, he didn't know that last bit. But surely she had to be.

Castle didn't know whether it was a girl either. He just felt it in his sparring-weary bones. Beckett had wanted to find out, of course she had, but he'd convinced her not to have the doctor tell them.

 _"Let's be surprised."_ He did love surprises.

 _"How is it any more of a surprise if we find out now or four months from now?"_ she'd asked, ruining his story with her logic. As always.

The amnio had told them the baby was healthy. And seven months in, Kate was healthy too. They both were and those were the only things he truly cared about. Only things that mattered.

Beckett's fingers threaded through his hair. "Mmm, you're all sweaty. I like it."

"Do you?" His hand cupped her neck and he kissed her again, on the lips this time. A greedy, hungry, welcome-home kiss since he hadn't seen her for nearly a week. "How long have you been standing here watching?"

"Long enough to be hugely impressed," she told him, handing him a towel, while he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge that stood against the same wall as her. "You're getting so good at this."

Castle accepted the compliment with a nod. Beckett didn't throw compliments around lightly, so it made him proud. He'd worked hard at this because he wanted, no _needed_ , to be good at this, especially now that she was pregnant and couldn't protect them physically the way she used to be able to.

Not that they needed _that_ kind of protection anymore. They had tracked down Smith a few months ago and he'd confirmed what they already suspected. That LokSat no longer gave a damn about them now that Beckett had backed down and could no longer influence any investigating done by the NYPD. The only one whose life was still in danger was Esposito and considering that he was still around, both Castle and Beckett assumed that he'd backed off as well.

So they were safe from that danger, but Castle knew she was making enemies of a different kind with her new job and if they ever threatened her when he was around then he wouldn't be helpless.

Castle kept thinking that he wanted to spar with Beckett sometime in the future, long after she had their girl, because he was curious what kind of a match his strength and newfound skills would be for her speed and agility.

"How was Bolivia?"

She eased the water bottle from his hands and took a sip from it. "Good. Got everything in place."

Castle sat down on the bench and Beckett followed suit, leaning on his shoulder as he guzzled the rest of the water. Her long hair fell over his bare arms and before he knew it the fresh, cherry scent of her was in his nostrils, overpowering the men's gym odour that lingered in the entire room. Made him want to bury his nose in her hair. It was so long these days, the longest he'd ever seen it, and so full and thick, thanks to the pregnancy hormones. Granted, he'd always found her stunning, but pregnancy- pregnancy made her beautiful in ways he never would have imagined. How calm and content she was these days. How, unlike Meredith, Kate embraced her newfound curves and carried them with the kind of pride and elegance that took his breath away. His lioness.

Who needed one hanging on the wall when he had one next to him in bed?

"You get some sleep?"

"Yeah," she yawned. "Five-hour nap."

"Nice," his lips made their way onto her forehead. How could he not touch and kiss her when she smelled like that and was leaning into him like she did now after a whole week apart?

"Wanna go for a late lunch?"

"Sure." He'd rather go home and make her lunch and then join her for another nap. But if she wanted to eat out, he was fine with that too. Truth was, he pretty much gave in to all her wishes lately. He figured it was the least he could do if she was going to carry their child for nine months, and bear all the aches and pains that it entailed. And that included bringing her ginger ale and pretzel sticks at two in the morning if that's what she wanted.

She'd flown in from La Paz early this morning and had come home from JFK just after he left the loft for a meeting with Gina, a meeting that he followed with a sparring session here. Watching Beckett do this job without hovering and worrying had been a lot harder than granting her other wishes, but he was getting better at that too.

This drive she had for justice, for not letting others get away with murder, was who she was. It was one of the main reasons he'd fallen in love with her. Neither marriage nor motherhood would ever change that part of her, and the thought of asking her to even consider it was both hypocritical and pointless.

Castle was the one who'd insisted on becoming her partner, so he figured it was time to step up and do the physical work that being her partner required. To be the kind of partner that wouldn't have to pay a third-rate bodyguard to keep them safe because he couldn't do it himself.

Castle got up and saw his reflections in one of the gyms full-length mirror. It would be an understatement to say his body was in very different shape than it was four months ago. He'd slimmed down and the only bulges he now saw on his arms and legs were muscles. He also regained the abs he used to have twenty-five years ago.

Beckett liked to joke that his stomach was shrinking as fast as hers was growing.

But, in reality, she loved his physical changes as much as he loved hers.

 _"Holy cow, Rick,"_ had been her reaction last time he took off his shirt in front of her. _"Where did those curves come from? That's pure muscle. You do know how stupidly horny this pregnancy's making me. You really don't have to make it even worse."_

Oh, but he did.

And it felt good; the way she reacted to the work he'd put in. Really good.

It wasn't just Thai kickboxing either. He'd spent time at the firing range and honed his already impressive skills with a gun. When Vaughn had enrolled Beckett in a protective services class he'd insisted on tagging along. He even went to pre-natal yoga classes with her and joined her for slushy winter runs through Central Park.

Partners. In every sense of the word.

"I know you'd rather go home and nap," she told him. Mind reading seemed to be another side effect of her pregnancy. Or maybe they were just more in synch than they'd ever been. "But I'll be working from home the next two weeks. I know we're gonna spend a good chunk of it napping and eating. So let's go out today. Somewhere fancy."

So he did.

He took her to his favourite Thai place in Koreatown, one that was fancy enough that the waiters wore ties and the tables had cotton tablecloths. He ordered a piping hot bowl of red curry beef with a Thai beer and she had chicken Pad Thai with mango juice. It was so good that he was glad she'd insisted on going out.

"Castle," she mumbled, mouth half full. It amused him sometimes, that she still called him that. Long and far away from the precinct.

"Hmm?" His mouth was half full too.

"You do know that I always thought you had my back, right? Right from the start." She'd stopped eating and propped her elbows on the table. "You didn't have to turn into a ninja to prove it."

Castle smirked. "You calling me a ninja is worth every bruise I've gotten on that damn sparring mat so far."

Beckett grinned. "You're an idiot."

"Guilty as charged."

"I mean it."

"The idiot part or the having my back part?"

"Both."

Castle took a sip of his cold beer in an attempt to cool the furnace of spices that the curry had unleashed inside his throat. "After Mother was attacked, I panicked, doubting all my choices, including having you in my life-" He saw her eyes darken. It was still a sore spot between them and it sometimes surfaced in the heat of an argument when he'd also remind her of her penchant for shutting him out of her life. It wasn't entirely gone, her fear of losing him and his fear of losing her. It probably never would disappear altogether and maybe it they needed to keep working at it or maybe it was a good thing because it made them value what they did have even more. "But worst of all, I felt helpless. Especially when you came to see me in the Hamptons and took down my bodyguard with ease."

"I dunno about ease-"

"I barged into your world, Kate," he told her. "I knew how dangerous it was, from day one. But I fell in love with you." He toyed with his fork, dropped a piece of beef on the table. "With your perseverance. Your heart. And your legs."

"In that order?"

"More or less."

"Castle?"

"I pulled you into my world because I wanted you there, Kate. Wanted you to be part of my family in spite of the danger that came with it. To do that and not take the necessary steps to protect my daughter, and my mother, to put that entire burden on you, was always irresponsible of me. So now I'm making up for that. I wanna be able to protect my family the right way. Not by throwing my big ass in front of you in the line of fire and getting killed in the process."

Beckett wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin. "Well, if you put it that way. Then I'm all for it. No getting killed anytime soon please. I need you around for diaper duty." She leaned in a little closer. "You also have a fine ass that needs to stay in one piece."

The lust in her eyes was making him want to take her home right now. It had been a week since they slept together and it felt like an eternity. He assumed the same was true for her, amidst all the hormonal chaos raging inside her body. They'd taken their sex life to a whole new level since her pregnancy, especially as she'd started to get bigger and they had to get a little more creative.

Luckily, he had a very capable imagination, coupled with that little black book of hers from Kiev.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Sex."

Her eyes lit up in amusement at first but then she was suddenly pensive. "Castle-"

The overseas trips sometimes did that to her and it made him wonder about all the things she saw on them. Things that she didn't always tell him about, because that, too, was who she was. Shielding and protecting him, even when he'd rather she didn't.

But just as he'd gotten better at confronting her when he was hurt, she'd gotten better at letting him in. Baby steps.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you're doing. Trying to keep us safe."

"I don't know if it'll actually help when push comes to shove," he admitted. "There's days when I want to fly off to the Third World with you or tie you to the bed at home, so you won't go at all." He did accompany her on one trip to Egypt last month and was glad he did, because they'd ended up too damn close to a rally that got out of hand and he'd deftly found a way of out it.

"With handcuffs?" she teased, twirling a forkful of rice noodles in her bowl.

"Course. What else?" He grinned. "It drives me crazy sometimes, but this part of you...it makes me proud too. To know there's some unsung hero somewhere in the world who can continue to fight for her cause because you and your team are making sure of it."

Beckett smiled. "Thanks, babe."

"Doesn't mean there aren't days when I'm not terrified," he told her. "But I do like the thought that our little girl might be as fierce as her Mom one day."

Beckett groaned. "We're having a boy."

"You don't know that."

"I don't know but I _feel_ it."

"I feel like we're having a girl."

"Says the guy who doesn't have a kicking foetus inside him." A mouth full of Pad Thai didn't stop her from rolling her eyes. "I'll prove you wrong in two months."

Castle's eyes lit up. "Is she kicking again?" He scooted over next to her and placed a flat palm on her belly. He could never resist a good kick from his little girl.

"Do we have to do this here?" she groaned. "In the restaurant."

Of course he did. "Not my fault that she's as excited by your plate of noodles as your are."

* * *

 _Manhattan, NY_

 _Five months later_

Richard Castle thought about that now, when he sat in his PI office and looked at the glossy photo of his family on the desk.

Their lunch at the Thai restaurant and the birth of his child nearly two months later.

Beckett did prove him wrong. It wasn't a girl.

He remembered it all too well. The first time he'd walked through the hallway of the maternity ward with the baby boy in his arms.

A son. He had a son.

"He's so beautiful," Martha had cooed over his shoulder. "Just like his Mama."

He did look like Kate. The high cheek bones and the big, wide-set brown eyes, along with that annoyed little frown on his tiny lips, those were _all_ Beckett. So was the tuft of dark brown hair on his little head.

Castle had bent down and given that smooth baby hair a kiss, in the hopes that it might quell the terror raging inside him. "I need his Mama to come back to us. Now."

"Oh Richard," Martha had squeezed his arm, unable to take her eyes off his son. She'd been as excited for his birth as anyone. The whole pregnancy had given her a chance to focus on something wonderful as she'd slowly recovered from her attack. "She's gonna be just fine. That girl is the toughest lady I've ever met. The doctor told you not to worry, so please Richard, listen to him."

Except she had still been sedated and hooked up to half a dozen monitors and how was that fine? How was he supposed to pretend it was normal?

Kate had gone into labour nearly two weeks early, which was unusual for a first pregnancy.

And it had been brutal, lasting a day and a half, until that final agonising push when Kate had brought the screaming seven-pound baby boy into the world, just before her heart had gone haywire and she'd lost consciousness.

It hadn't lasted long, and god knows he'd been grateful for that, but nearly a day later she had still been drifting in and out of consciousness and breathing heavily whenever she was conscious, as though she'd just run a marathon, all while a trio of cardiologists had kept her hooked her up to a host of machines that monitored her every heart beat.

He remembered handing the baby over to his mother that day, as one of the cardiologists had approached him and led him to his office and started talking in great details about his wife's bullet damaged heart and how it could have been affected by the stress of labour. Truthfully, most of it had gone right over his head. Until he'd heard the words: _"...we have every reason to believe that this is neither a life- threatening nor a permanent issue."_

"She's gonna be okay?"

"Your wife is healthy and fit. More so than most people her age."

"You didn't answer my question."

"We're going to keep her here and monitor her hear for a couple of days, just to make sure. But...yes, she's going to be okay."

The doctor had said it as though he'd been silly to think otherwise. As though he hadn't watched her lose consciousness right after she gave birth.

 _She's going to be okay._ They were the only words he'd hung onto that day. Even though there had been other reassurance. From Jim Beckett and Alexis and his mother.

The doctor had also told him that Kate would likely come around for good soon, so of course that's where he'd gone to right afterwards. Her bedside.

She'd been drowsy and sluggish when she'd woken up, as one of her IV'd arms clumsily reached up for his face and missed it altogether.

"Rick-" She'd said it so softly, with a pair of dry, parched lips. If he hadn't been so familiar with his name coming from them, he wouldn't have been able to make out the word at all.

"Take it easy." He'd raised her bed just enough that she wasn't lying flat and that he could hand her a cup with some water and a straw.

"Oliver?" she'd asked, coming around and sipping from it greedily, until he'd pulled it away because he didn't want her to throw it back up. "Is he...is he okay?"

"Yes. He's fine, Kate. Perfectly fine." He'd thought about it for a second. "Hey wait a minute, how do you know?"

"Know?"

"That it's a boy."

Her cracked lips had smiled. "Told you, Castle."

"He's good," he'd told her, reaching for her hand and warming her cool skin with the heat of his touch. "Better than good. He's healthy. Ten impossibly tiny toes and equally tiny fingers, a scrunched up little nose, beautiful golden-brown eyes, _your eyes_ , and hair...you wouldn't believe it but he has hair on his head. A lot of hair! He's basically a mini-you."

She was looking up at him, hanging on to every word and by now she'd already regained enough strength to grab onto the sweater he'd worn. "Wanna see him. _Please_."

"You're okay too," he'd told her. "Just, you know, in case you were wondering."

She'd eyed him as though any other alternative wasn't really an option. "Good."

"You scared me."

"I'm sorry-"

He'd bent over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "It's okay. All good now. But you need to take it eas- "

"Rick," she'd gotten agitated. "I need to see him."

"Right."

The cardiologist had told him to make sure she stayed calm. Especially right after waking. In fact, he'd already his made way into the room at some point and was now checking the monitors she was attached to.

Castle had grabbed his attention. "Can we-"

"Yes," the doctor had told him kindly, probably knowing that keeping Kate away from her newborn son was bound to cause her heart more stress than bringing him in and letting her hold him. "Of course you can. I'll ask a nurse to bring him in."

"It's okay. I can get him."

He'd gone to get their son and gently put him in her arms, wondering whether she had the strength to hold him yet. It had been a silly thought because of course she had. Kate had held onto to him as though he was the most precious thing in the world.

"Oliver Viktor Castle, I want you to meet your Mom." The baby had been quiet, staring up at her with wide eyes. "You lucked out, kid. Because she's extraordinary. "

They'd picked the name a while ago. Olivia Viktoria or Oliver Viktor, depending on the sex. Because Olive was off the table. His middle name was for Vikram. And for the victories it took to bring him into the world.

Kate's eyes had started to water as she'd reached out to examine every inch of him with her fingers. "Look at him, babe," she'd told him in awe as she watched him stretch his arms and open his mouth in a yawn. "He really is perfect."

"He is."

She'd held him close and kissed the top of his head. "I love him so much already."

Castle understood completely, because he felt the same. Already his son had taken up permanent residence in his heart, right next to Alexis and Kate.

A couple of months later, long after Kate left the hospital, healthy and impatient and eager to tackle motherhood and every challenge it entailed, they'd heard other words during a follow-up appointment that were far less hopeful than the ones he'd heard at the hospital that day.

He'd told them that even though the cardiac issue that had made her lose consciousness during labour was no longer a concern; that carrying another child and giving birth again might be pushing their luck.

Kate took it well that day in the doctor's office, but afterwards there were occasional moments, usually in the middle of the night, when she hadn't been able to hold back her tears. When Castle had held her because he didn't know what else he could do.

 _"I wasn't sure I was cut out to be a mother, Rick. But it's been amazing. Watching him grow and change...I thought maybe we could give him sibling his age..."_

The doctor hadn't said it was impossible, but he'd outlined a number of risks, some of which might taper with time. But given Beckett's age, time wasn't really on their side and there were some risks that Castle wasn't willing to take. Even Kate, the biggest risk taker he'd ever known, had agreed with him.

Oliver was more than he could have possibly hoped for nearly a year ago, when he'd rushed off to a hospital in Harlem after someone shot his estranged wife full of heroin and dumped her in an alley.

She ended up in prison after that and if it wasn't for Vikram's hidden camera she'd likely still be behind bars.

Instead, she was here with him, along with a sweet, funny baby boy that he loved to pieces.

Castle's thoughts drifted back to the present when Alexis strode into his office, carrying Oliver in her arms.

He jumped out of his seat to greet his son and take him from Alexis's arms. "Where'd you find this adorable little guy? Did someone leave him on the doorstep?"

"I was about to leave him on your doorstep," Kate stepped into his office, holding an empty Snugly in one hand and a diaper bag flung over her shoulders. "He wouldn't take a nap this morning and got all fussy, so I thought about putting him up for adoption."

"Wow." Castle planted a kiss on his Oliver's forehead. "Your Mom takes tough love to new heights."

Beckett grinned as she set down the Snugly and the diaper bag. "I have a lunch date with Alexis, did you forget?"

"I, uh.." Yes, yes he did forget. Completely.

"I reminded you when I got in," Alexis pointed out.

That was probably true, but Castle was so easily distracted in his office. Aside from the work, there were so many cool gadgets here that he only had time to indulge in when he wasn't working from home.

"Fine." Castle searched his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "I'll adopt him for twenty."

Beckett scrunched up her face as though debating it. "Is that the going rate? Have you _seen_ him, Rick? He's pretty damn cute."

He took a good look at his gorgeous baby boy. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll give you another ten if you throw in the diaper bag and the baby food."

Kate dusted a kiss onto the side of his face and he felt her teeth on his ear lobe, while her fingers eased the twenty-dollar bill from his hand. "Deal."

"Will you bring back take-out?"

"Now you're pushing it."

"Dad," Alexis groaned. "Stop holding us up." But she too couldn't help fussing over Oliver. His son had that effect on people. Kate was always telling him that he'd inherited all his charm, that his personality was all Castle, even at seven months old.

He thought Beckett had plenty of charm herself, but he wasn't going to argue that.

He watched as Alexis adjusted one of the cotton baby socks that had slipped halfway off his foot when Kate had handed him over to his father.

Maybe their life was on the chaotic side, between both their busy careers but one thing Oliver didn't lack was love. He was showered with it every single day. From his doting grandparents to his protective big sister and Marcela, the Honduran nanny who helped them out when things got truly hectic; they all adored him and proved that it really did take a village.

Beckett liked to think she was the tough parent, the one who wouldn't give in to his cries quite so easily. The bad cop to his good cop. So Castle let her believe it was true. But he knew better. Oliver had his Mom wrapped around her little finger more than anyone else.

All it took to guarantee at least an hour in her arms was one of those beaming smiles he reserved exclusively for her after she came back from a work trip. Clever kid.

"We'll be back before the 2pm meeting with Hendrick," Alexis told him, while Beckett rubbed her nose against her son's and then topped it off with a kiss. Bad cop indeed.

"Make sure you poop while you're with Daddy, okay?"

Alexis chuckled and with that the two of them took off. Kate and Alexis were close these days, more so than they'd ever been before. Rick wasn't sure what prompted the change in their relationship and he never asked, but it made him happy.

Castle bounced his son in his arm and avoided a squealing slap from him by turning his face sideways just in time. Oliver was as prone to getting easily excited as he was. Maybe Beckett had a point about their kid having his personality.

Oliver got hold of a tiny fistful of his shirt and Castle bounced him up and down again, eliciting another round of squealing.

He definitely wouldn't get any work done while his ladies were out for lunch. None at all.

And that was perfectly fine by him.


	28. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 _"...there wasn't much difference between loving someone and being afraid of them. Loving someone meant needing them to stay: alive, around. But the shadow that love can't help but cast is fear: fear they won't stay alive or around- fear they'll be reckless , or doomed or just walk away and not consider you ever again. With love, you're scared it will disappear. With fear, you're scared it never will. The trick... was getting used to both of them at the same time. It was living in between."_

 _-Michael Christie. "If I Fall, if I Die."_

 _Three years later_

 _Manhattan, NY_

A few years ago this kind of stifling mid-summer day in Manhattan would have made her hole up in her air-conditioned apartment or flee the city altogether, preferably up to her father's cabin.

The city was flooded with tourists, an endless mass of faces and languages from all corners of the globe, all waving identical selfie sticks in front of every landmark they encountered. And the summer heat was the unbearable, thermometer-busting kind of humidity that curled her hair against her will and made the short walk to Washington Square Park feel like she'd run a marathon.

But after spending five days in the hillside slums of Guatemala City last week, she felt that the noise and heat here were tame by comparison, heavenly even. Never mind that in a couple of days they'd flee the city like most locals, and spend the next two weeks in the Hamptons, sun tanning and building sandcastles.

Kate Beckett snagged a spot on the steps by the fountain and had a paperback book in one hand and a cup of iced coffee sitting next to her thigh on the concrete. She wrapped her fingers around the slippery condensation of her plastic cup and took a sip of the milky beverage before she opened the book to the page where she'd left off, dying to see whether Harry Hole would figure out who killed his ex-girlfriend. She might not be a cop anymore but she still relished her occasional quiet moments with a good crime thriller. Always would.

Beckett glanced at her Omega watch and figured she had about ten or fifteen minutes before Castle got back from the ice cream shop with Oliver.

She was barely into the first paragraph when she spotted all three of them from the corner of her eyes. Her boys. And the dog.

She put away her book, her annoyance at their uncustomary speed not lasting more than a second because no matter how crazy they drove her, having them near her would always trump everything else. They were a part of her now, her boys, and having them in her space felt as natural as breathing.

Castle and Oliver were both holding paper cups with ice cream in their hands and they joined her on the steps of the fountain after Castle gave his son a hand in climbing over the first one. It didn't take long for Oliver to end up on top of her lap, beating the dog to it. Panda ended up plopped next to Castle, and Beckett got out some ice cold water from a thermos in her purse and poured it into a collapsible bowl for him.

"Watcha got there?" she asked Oliver, as if she didn't already know the answer. As if he hadn't already been blabbing about the 'smores ice cream they were going to get all day. As if she didn't already know that it was his most favourite thing in the world.

"'Smores cream," he told her, his golden-brown eyes looking up at her from under a Yankees cap that had been a gift from grandpa Beckett.

"Is that right?"

"Go on," Castle told Oliver, sitting close enough that his elbow brushed against hers. "Give your Mom some."

Kate raised her brows and nearly winced. Asking their four-year old to wait until he got here to eat his favourite thing in the whole world was one thing, but asking him to give her his first bite was cruelty on a whole other level.

But he did it.

Without a groan of disappointment. Without hesitation. Oliver held up his ice cream cup for her. "Take it, Mom."

She took a bite of the too-sweet concoction while her heart threatened to burst with all the love she had for this crazy kid. The same kid who'd summoned up their downstairs neighbour last night for the third noise complaint this month.

As if she gave a damn about any of that, especially during moments like this, when her son reminded her that he had his father's heart.

"Thanks, Ollie."

"You like it, right?"

"Love it," she lied.

He gave her one of those smiles that always melted all her defenses. Made it impossible not to smile back at him. "Now eat it before it melts," she told him, pressing the paper cup back into his hands.

He didn't need any more prompting before dipping the plastic spoon into the ice cream and stuffing a giant bite into his mouth.

"You're cruel," she whispered into Castle's ears. Her eyes checking out what was in her husband's cup. She didn't quite share their love of fancy cakes and ice cream but she did like to try new things.

"He loves you, that's all," he replied, digging into his own cup. "More than his ice cream."

Kate smirked. "Do you?"

"No way."

"Jerk."

"Whoa...language." Castle grinned as he held his hands over Oliver's ears in mock shock, as if their ice-cream focused son was actually listening to a word of their whispered conversation. Even the dog had nodded off.

"Here," he held out his spoon for her. "Try it and tell me what flavour it is, detective."

She licked the ice cream off it and regretted it the moment the bitter flavour hit her tongue. "Oh my God, Castle. What the hell- that is disgusting."

"Disgusting is not a flavour."

"It's what it should be called."

"Try sauerkraut."

"You're kidding, right?"

His tanned, ruggedly handsome face was dead serious, even though she couldn't read his blue eyes underneath the sunglasses he wore. "I wouldn't kid about ice cream. You know me better than that."

"Sauerkraut ice cream? That's just wrong."

"It was a tough call between that and the lobster."

"Lobster ice cream? Equally wrong."

"They had a haggis-flavoured one too. I'm saving that one for next time."

Oliver's hasty eating resulted in a dropped chunk of 'smores ice-cream on her forearm and Kate licked it off to get the flavour of sauerkraut out of her mouth. "How about we introduce our son to some normal ice cream flavours in the Hamptons next week?"

"Puh-lease," he scoffed while his arm had snaked around her waist, so that both her boys were well inside her personal space, where they belonged. "You'd last a week with us if we were normal, right, kid?" He nudged Oliver, who still had no idea what they were talking about but agreed with a resounding. "Right, Dad" anyway.

Kate shook her head in amused disbelief.

Life could be so good on humid, mid-summer days in the throng of New York City.

* * *

 _One week later_

 _Hamptons, Long Island_

The record breaking heat followed them out to the northern-most tip of Long Island.

Not that Castle minded all that much because it was a fine excuse to do nothing. To drink sweet tea on the beach and read, while watching his son play in the sand. To ogle his wife as she tanned by the pool, wearing a tiny green bikini he'd bought for her, the kind she herself would never buy anymore, much less wear in a public swimming area, because she was too self-conscious about her scars (no matter how hard he'd tried to convince her that the scars would be the last thing anyone would see after getting a glimpse of her toned, fit body). It meant late-night barbeques, because it was too hot to eat during the day. Followed by illegal fireworks underneath the moonlight and letting Oliver stay up so late that one of them usually had to carry him back to the house, sound asleep in their arms.

One week of this and he was tempted to try and convince her to spend the whole summer here.

Martha and Alexis were here too and he liked it that way. Not only because he liked to have all his ladies under the same roof, but because his family filled up the too-big house and breathed life into it.

It was the middle of the night now and a much-needed light breeze came through their open windows. Castle was adrift in that blissful state of half-sleep and half-lucidty.

Until he heard the familiar sound of her cell phone ringing on the night table stand on the other side of the king-size bed.

It rang three times until he felt Kate stir awake and push herself up on one elbow to answer it with a sleep-drugged voice.

His blinking eyes tried to focus on her silhouette in the darkness. His ears pulling him into wakefulness as he tried to listen to her conversation too.

Middle of the night calls were never good. Never had been during her NYPD days and still weren't now, even though they were so much less frequent than they used to be.

"Oh my god-"

Castle caught her voice catch and it made his gut clench.

This wasn't good.

"No-no, I'll go. If you send the jet to Teterboro, I can be there in two hours."

 _No. No, you can't._

"Eric-" He saw her brush her hair off her face in the darkness. She wore it shorter these days. Just barely past her shoulders. The colour was darker too and right now she had a long set of bangs that sometimes fell right over her gorgeous eyes. It took him a little while to get used to it, and he'd sometimes joked that she looked like the brooding lead of an indie film, but now he liked it. A lot. It suited her.

"What the hell are you gonna do there? You don't have the training."

"Not saying I wanna go. Hell no. But if I don't go, then who? Blakely's in the Sudan and Nawab is in rural Pakistan. How long 'til they even get to an airport? They're way too far away."

It was only now that Castle noticed that there was a little leg draped over one of his own. Oliver was lying sideways, fast asleep, on their bed, perpendicular to him, so that one of his legs was arched over Castle's knees and his head was right where Kate's waist would have been before she moved to answer the phone.

He used to be a chubby toddler, all fleshy arms and massive cheeks. Made Castle think that for all his physical resemblance to Kate, he'd end up with his father's body shape after all. But then he hit growth spurt last year, growing out of his clothes faster than they could replace them. Gone was the baby fat and now his limbs were well on the way towards long and lanky. Just like his mother.

Castle wondered when the little growing sneak had made his way in here.

Kate had been strict about trying to wean him off that habit. Sometimes carrying him back to his own bed two or three times a night. But she often made exceptions during thunder storms and Castle remembered hearing the sounds of thunder earlier in the night.

 _"Next time he wants to crawl into our bed during a storm, I'll take him outside to watch the lightning. Show him that there's nothing to be afraid of. Fear is normal, Rick. But he has to learn to face it, look it in the eye."_

 _"At four years old?"_

 _"Sooner the better."_

She'd often ask him questions, or even defer to him when it came to parenting. Because he'd done all this before and Kate was so determined to get it right. But truth was, he'd always been a fly-by-the-seat-of-his pants Dad. He'd never planned to do it all on his own and when it ended up that way, he'd simply done the best he could. It didn't hurt either that he'd been blessed with the sweetest daughter in the world.

This time around was different. The simple act of doing it with someone else was an adjustment. Even now, four years in, they were both still learning.

He was used to spoiling Alexis and given her all the material comforts that he never had as a kid, and he expected to be doing the same with Oliver. Buying toys and gadgets was one of his favourite parts of parenting. But apparently Beckett didn't feel the same way.

 _"Gifts are for special occasions, Castle."_

 _"Going to the beach is a special occasion."_

 _"I was thinking more along the line of birthdays and Christmases."_

 _"Only twice a year? Are you crazy?"_

Turned out she was dead serious.

 _"I don't want to raise a spoiled kid, Castle."_

 _"Alexis wasn't-"_

 _"Alexis was the perfect kid! The exception to all the rules,"_ she'd given him a grimace of sorts, probably thinking back to the number of time-outs Oliver had been given for pulling pigtails in his first month at junior kindergarten. He _was_ a bit of a rascal. _"Oliver...not so much."_

 _"He's a good kid, Kate."_

 _"I know he is...he's a sweetheart. But I wanna keep it that way. Spoiled kids turn into bratty teenagers and they turn into arrogant, entitled young men. I don't want that. He's already won the birth lottery, babe. He's gonna go to the best schools. He'll spend summers in a mansion in the Hamptons. Least we can do is try make sure he doesn't take it for granted. Let's not spoil him even further on top of that."_

It's when she said it like that that he didn't really have an argument in return.

Truth was, Beckett was the anti-Meredith and all her motherhood fears and doubts were unfounded, because she was really good at this. Sure, she felt guilty sometimes for leaving for days at a time, but then she'd come back and spend weeks at a time working from home. In the end, she spent far more time with their kid than most parents that worked office jobs.

Beckett was a great mom for the same, simple reason she'd been a great cop. Because she cared.

It meant Castle hadn't bought him the mini-dune buggy he wanted to get him last week (which would have been _so_ much fun) but one thing Beckett had relented on was getting Oliver a dog nearly three years ago.

Now that he thought about the dog, Castle figured that if Oliver was here, sprawled out on their king-sized bed, then Panda had to be nearby as well. The mutt never let Oliver out of his sight if he could help it.

Sure enough, one glance towards the foot of the bed, and he could see a black-and-white breathing mound of fur, his eyes awake and alert to every movement that Kate was making in the moonlit room.

"I'll call you from the airport," was the last thing he'd heard her say before she ended the call.

"What's going on?"

"Daniel, the guy in the slums of Guatemala City, who's been running his clean water project and setting up schools for gang kids-"

"The one who's been pissing off the drug cartels."

"Yeah-" Kate was almost breathless, fully sitting up and staring blankly at their sleeping son.

"What happened?"

"We had three guys protecting him. Two of them died tonight."

"Oh no-"

Castle's eyes had adjusted to the darkness in the room and he could see her meet his gaze. Finally. "The third one managed to get Daniel away. They're safe for now but they're in hiding and he needs help in getting out of the city."

"But you have other men there who can do that."

"We have an office crew of _two_ there, Castle. Only one of them's trained. It's a small operation. Carlos wants to go in there and get the guard and Daniel further away. Vaughn gave him the go-ahead."

"Good."

"No," Kate shook her head. "Not good. He needs back-up."

"But Vaughn okayed it because he doesn't want _you_ to be the back-up."

"Doesn't make sense, Castle. No one else can get there sooner. Most of our team is scattered throughout Africa and Asia right now."

It made sense to him.

Even though Vaughn had been happily married for some time, Castle used to think that maybe the feelings he once had for Kate could be a liability. But now he knew better. There was nothing romantic anymore in Vaughn's sentiments for Kate (their two families had had enough meals together that he was certain of that fact, as certain as he was that Kate would never have taken the job if that was the case), but Eric did care about her, and in moments like these, it was an asset, not a liability.

One that Castle was grateful for.

"So if you're not going down there to back him up, why the rush? Why is he sending a jet and you're taking off for Teterboro and then, I assume, Guatemala in the middle of the night?"

"Two men are dead, Rick. We need to be there. Let their families know. Tell them that we're going to look after whatever they need."

Castle cringed. It was a stupid question. They'd lost a guard two years ago, in Yemen, and both Vaughn and Kate had been there personally for everyone involved, in the aftermath. Even though it took a toll on both of them.

"And if Carlos can't get Daniel and the guard to safety, they might need help," she added.

 _That_ was the kind of honesty she would've spared him from in the early days of their marriage. Proof of how far they'd come.

"I see."

"Rick-" She looked miserable. Her attention back on Oliver. "I'm sorry...but I have to go. I hope it won't be more than a few days. Once Vaughn's lawyers get the paperwork for Daniel, Carlos will make sure he gets to Panama along with his mother and sister."

"I know." He hated it, but he understood. Wouldn't have expected anything less from her.

"Love you," she mouthed and he caught hers finger gently pushing a strand of hair out of their sleeping son's face.

"I know."

His eyes trailed her as she stepped over to the closet and slipped out of one his over sized t-shirts that always ended up being used as her nightgown. Castle let them soak in the sight of her naked profile and the outline of her breasts illuminated only by the silver light of the moon that cut through their window. He closed his eyes after she put on a bra and the rest of her clothes, storing the image in his mind so that maybe later he could put into words. Not that words would do it justice.

Then he got up and walked to the closet on the other side of the bedroom.

Panda, their dog, flipped his head back and forth, trying to follow both their movements.

"Castle," Kate stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed."

"Babe, you don't need to drive me to the airport. I'll put the car in long-term parking."

"I'm going with you. To Guatemala."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"Not the first time I'd be going with you. And not the last."

They both had their passports on hand. They always did these days and he'd been put on Vaughn's payroll (on paper anyhow) a long time ago precisely so that he had the same legal rights on foreign soil that all his employees did. Including the right to bear arms in some nations.

Never mind that he was now as well trained as most of the guards that worked in the field.

"True but this-" Kate's words got caught in her throat. "It's so last-minute. You can't just leave Oliver-"

"It's too dangerous. That's what you're trying to say."

"No-"

Castle had already dressed and slipped into a pair of black socks before he stood up and stepped into her space. Took hold of both her arms to help curb this argument before it even started. "Yes, it is, sweetheart. It's exactly why I'm coming with you. Because you need me."

She shook her head vehemently. "You're being ridiculous. Our son needs-"

"Shhh..." He put an index fingers on her lips. "Martha and Alexis are both here. I'll call Marcela on the way to the airport. Tell her we'll send a car service to pick her and the grandkids up. You know she'll do it in a heartbeat. She loves Ollie and she loves spending time here."

"Castle, I'm not letting you do this."

He pulled her in close and pressed a hand against her sternum. Could feel her heart race underneath. Her breathing was faster too and he could feel her trying to hold back her panic.

All these years later, it was still her worst fear.

Losing him.

It literally made her panic and do stupid, irrational things. Like pack up a duffle bag while he was cooking smorelettes and walk right out of their marriage. It was humbling and infuriating all at once; to be loved so fiercely. Beyond all reason.

But he understood it now, and wished he'd understood better it then. It could have saved them a lot of grief during those awful LokSat days.

Castle pulled her closer still and eased his index finger from her lips, covered them in a quick kiss instead. "Not asking for your permission."

Kate snagged a hold of his shirt, making no move to pull away from his grasp. Her heart was still racing and that made his own beat quicker as well. He never took it for granted that it was beating at all and the thought that it might one day stop before his own was one of his biggest fears. "We cannot just leave our son here."

"You know he's going to be perfectly fine for a few days. It's not the first time we've both gone abroad together."

"Castle-please," she was pleading now and that too was a side-effect of her fear. "I need you to stay here and look after our family. Need to know that you're-"

He eased one of her hands off his shirt and brought it up to his lips and kissed the palm. His touch was so much better at easing her panic than his words. That was something else he'd learned over the years. "That's what I'm doing by going with you. Looking after my family."

She exhaled and he could see the beginnings of reluctant acceptance on her face.

"We work better together than apart. Always have."

Beckett frowned. "I don't like this."

"Best case scenario we get there and Carlos will have brought them to a safe place. All we have to do is stick them on Vaughn's fancy jet and bring them to the coast. Worst case, he'll need our help and then we'll both have each other's backs. No one I trust more than you to have my back."

Beckett exhaled. "I trust you too."

"Alright, stop arguing with me and grab our overnight bag."

Beckett let her gaze linger on him for a moment, looking at him with hope in her eyes. As if maybe he'd change his mind and let her go down the rabbit hole alone again. Because that's the only way the panic would subside.

Her heart searched for it but her head knew better. Knew it was a futile hope.

So she turned around and did what he asked, packed for both them while on autopilot, making a few more pointless protests along the way, because, well, she was still Beckett and wouldn't go down without a fight. Meanwhile, he went to Alexis's room to wake her up and tell her they were heading out.

"We should wake him," Castle told her when they were both done and he'd laced up his black leather shoes. "Tell him we'll be away a few days."

She narrowed her brows guiltily. "I hate this."

"I know."

Beckett sat back down on the bed and gentle rubbed one of his bare legs, until he shifted in his sleep and slowly opened one of his eyes. She leaned forward, bending her elbow down to kiss his forehead. "Hey, sleepyhead."

"Mom? Have to go back?"

"Back?" It took Beckett a second to figure out what he meant. "Ah...to your room."

She looked up at Castle and he gave her nod, because he had an inkling as to what kind of deal she'd strike with their four-year old.

"Dad and I have to go away for a little while," she told Oliver. "If you wanna stay here while we're away that's okay."

He started up at her with sleepy eyes. "Okay."

"But you have to stay here," she told. "You can't run into Alexis's room whenever you get scared."

"Without you?"

"You won't be alone. Panda's going to be here," Castle cut in.

"On the bed?"

The hint of a smile lifted the corner of Beckett's lips. "You want that?"

His hand reached out to touch her face and gave her a sleepy smile. "Please, Mom."

Castle smirked. She was the worst bad cop ever. "Panda, did you hear that?" The dog's ears perked up at the mention of his name.

Beckett patted the spot on the mattress next to Oliver and let the dog know he could jump on it. He didn't need any further invitation. The dog was on the bed next to his favourite human in an instant and Oliver gave him a hug and curled into him, his sleepy body already drifting off again. The two of them were the same age, Panda had been just over a year old when they adopted him, just as Oliver had turned from a sweet baby into a walking, running, babbling menace. He was a mix of so many breeds that Castle wasn't sure exactly what kind of dog they had. He'd come with a name, Macbeth, which his mother loved but Oliver couldn't pronounce. Instead, he called him _Anda_ , because the dog's black and white colouring made his son think he was a panda bear, just like the one from his favourite animal book Beckett always read to him.

The rest was history. Their dog soon had a new name and most of the time he was joined at the hip with Oliver.

Beckett gave her son another kiss. "Be good, sweetheart okay? Take care of Panda and your sister. I love you."

"Love you too, buddy," Castle told him, swooping in for squishy hug. "We'll be back soon."

* * *

 _Later_

They'd been on the road for barely more than twenty-minutes when Castle spotted an open donut shop and pulled over.

He asked her whether she wanted anything and Kate said no, but when he came out from the shop he had two coffees in hand and a bag big enough that she was certain it contained more than one pastry.

While he was inside, she'd scooted over to the driver's side. Let him nap for the rest of the way, since she was too antsy for it anyway.

"Here," he stuck her cup into the holder after getting into the passenger's side.

"I probably shouldn't," she admitted, although she knew she would once the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee filled the inside of the car.

"It's half decaf."

Of course it was. He knew that caffeine was the last thing she needed after her near panic attack this morning, but he also knew her well enough to know she'd crave it desperately anyway.

"Thanks."

"You want the Boston cream donut or the bran muffin?"

She almost choked on a sip of coffee. "What kind of a choice is that?"

"Says the woman who wanted nothing."

"Nothing is better than those options."

"Better than a warm cinnamon bun fresh out of the oven?"

Kate caught the amusement on his face in her peripheral vision along with the edges of the pastry peeking out from his paper bag. What she saw looked sinfully good.

"Hand it over," she demanded.

"You said you didn't-"

"Don't make me pull over and fight you for it-"

He was full on grinning now. "You'd lose."

He wasn't even boasting. It was true. Her husband was in great shape and the last time they'd sparred she lost badly. Hadn't even minded, because afterwards she'd snuck him into the private women's showers at the gym and his hands and tongue had nursed both her bruises and her ego, among other things.

Rick Castle always has been more than enough for her. Smart enough. Strong enough. But Castle wanted to be more. Just as Kate always knew that he would have accepted her broken and fragile after her shooting, but she hadn't been satisfied with that either. She wanted him to have the best of her. So for all times they brought out the worst in each other, there were a dozen more where they brought out their best.

"Here," he pulled out half the cinnamon bun from the bag, making it easy to eat with one hand, and gave it to her. "For the sake of matrimonial harmony."

"Shut up," she took a bite and couldn't help a grin as well.

It's what he did nowadays whenever she got too close to the ledge. He stood firm at first and then distracted her afterwards. He held on so tight that she couldn't fall and then he slowly pulled her back out.

They had a challenging, gut-wrenching day ahead of them. The flight to Central America, the need to get Daniel to safety and _if_ all that went well, then they had to go see the families of the dead guards. One of whom had a daughter the same age as Oliver.

And here was Castle, making it all of it bearable.

One of his hands squeezed her knee. "You okay?"

Kate opened the window halfway to let in the warm air outside. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good."

"Rick-"

"Hm?" He was munching on something too.

"This morning- I'm sorry. I freaked out."

"My heart kinda raced when you got the call too," he admitted.

"You scared?"

"Yes."

Beckett nodded. Too much fear was paralyzing but a little was good. It sharpened your sense and made you careful.

"Not planning on dying though," he added. "So don't think you're getting rid of me. Or out of our poker game with the boys next week."

"It'll never go away completely," she confessed. "The fear of losing you. Not sure I even want it to. But I'm glad you're here. Really glad."

"Good," he rolled down his window too, so that her hair flew up into her face in the sudden draft, making her feel awake and alive. "Because you're stuck with me."

 _The End_

* * *

 **A/N:**

First off huge thanks to those who stuck with the story 'til the end and offered your encouragement along the way. Super grateful for that. Special acknowledgments to the guest reviewers to whom I couldn't send a personal thanks.

Special shout out also to PhilliesFan1000. You often left me such kind and often thought-provoking feedback. Anyone who has you reviewing their stories is a lucky writer.

I struggled with this story. Cannot lie. There was more than one time that I wanted to toss it out the window and call it a day. As anyone who's written anything here knows, finding the motivation to keep at it when you're getting negative feedback on top of it all, can be a challenge. So while this might not be my best written work, it's definitely the one I'm most proud of finishing.

Last, but definitely not least, massive thank you and giant hug to WRTRD. To have had the support and encouragement of a writer of your calibre in this, both as a beta reader and a friend, has meant the world to me. You let me rant and pick your brain, taught me to moderate my reviews and kept me entertained with your own writing throughout it all. You deserve a boatload of credit for this story reaching the finish line.


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